


New Moon Rising

by JBankai89



Series: Lunaticus [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Love Triangle, M/M, Non-Canon Creatures, Redemption, Sexual Harrassment, Violence, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Harry Potter, Werewolf Hermione Granger, Werewolves, brief mentions of female infertility, dom/sub elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-10-08 22:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 164,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10397631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBankai89/pseuds/JBankai89
Summary: Harry wakes from his brutal attack by Greyback and Remus to find Hermione at his side, caught in the crossfire between Harry and Greyback. Harry is quick to leave the wizarding world and join Fenrir Greyback's pack, while Hermione chooses to stay behind.Having realized his crass mistake, Remus returns to the territory, intent on winning Harry back and proving to him how deeply he regrets how he had treated him. Harry has moved on and wants nothing to do with his ex, but Remus refuses to give up, and suddenly Harry is caught in between the two dominant werewolves, and once more, Harry's life has become much more complicated than he ever wanted it to be.





	1. The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> STOP! This is book three of the Lunaticus series. Go back and read Half Moon and Moonstruck first.
> 
> A/N: Welcome back to the final part of the Lunaticus series! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't, well...I did my best, and after writing and rewriting the outline for this damn story close to 4 times, I'm finally at a place where I'm happy with how it's turned out, and I hope you guys also enjoy the close to the series that I have been working on since May 2016.
> 
> For the time being, I will be posting once every two weeks, because as of right now I only have about half the chapters completed. Once I have more done, I'll go up to posting once a week. (Also because I finally got myself a real job so I have significantly less time on my hands to actually write...) This is to ensure that I won't suddenly have to take a hiatus, cuz I really, really, don't want to do that to you guys. So, the choice was every two weeks, or wait longer. The next update, chapter two will not be up until April 7th though, so there will be a 2.5-week wait for the next instalment. Sorry about that. :(

New Moon Rising

 

“ _The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound him.”_

_-Jack London, Call of the Wild_

 

Chapter One – The Other Side

 

_Harry felt heavy, as though his body weighed several tonnes. He let out a soft groan, and despite his overwhelming exhaustion, he felt no pain. This was significant, though he could not for the life of him remember why._

_His eyes flicked open, and he found himself in some sort of void. Black, endless in all directions, and yet confining at the same time. It was not the void that drew his attention however, but the other being that resided there with him._

_Harry sat up slowly and regarded the lithe white wolf curiously. It was small, and at first Harry almost mistook it for a coyote. The creature cocked its head to the side, watching Harry as intently as he watched it, its piercing emerald gaze bore into him with an intelligence Harry would not expect from such an animal._

“ _What are you?” Harry tried to ask, but his voice was terribly hoarse, and the question escaped him as a low growl. The creature did not respond, but continued to watch Harry intently. Harry looked down at himself, and he felt strangely exposed, for he was naked._

_In an instant, he was dressed in his old school robes, and Harry recalled at once the last time he'd found himself in such a place._

So, not dead then, _he thought, and took a step towards the creature. Its ears pricked and it turned from him, trotting away at a leisurely pace, and Harry hastened to catch up with it._

“ _Hey, wait!” he called, but the creature did not respond to his voice and continued his walk onward. Slowly, a pinprick of light appeared in the distance, and Harry felt a strange pull to catch up to the creature before it disappeared into that bright light. His calves burned as he ran, and though the speed of the creature's stride did not waver, it always seemed just out of reach._

_Harry realized that he was slowly catching up to the creature, but so too was the light growing brighter. He strove to ignore the ache in his calves as he ran, and at last his fingers threaded through the thick fur and in an instant everything stopped._

 

Harry opened his eyes.

 

“Hey, Harry,” a female voice said.

It did not come from the bedside, but from next to him instead. Harry turned and saw Hermione smiling at him sadly, a thick bandage over her left upper arm.

At first, Harry was too disoriented to answer her, struck both by anguish that she had gotten caught in the crossfire—the one thing he did _not_ want to happen—and the fact that he could see her.

 

Completely.

 

Harry blinked hard, but her visage did not blur, and it was sharp and clear. Harry lifted his hands to his face to be sure, and found that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He didn't feel particularly joyed by this however, not when it had been his fault that Hermione had gotten hurt.

“You're...?” Harry began to ask, and she smiled weakly as she nodded. Despite the calm demeanour she was clearly trying to exude, Harry could practically _feel_ her anxiety bubbling just below the surface. “God, Hermione, I'm so sorry this is all—”

“—It's not your fault, Harry,” she interrupted, her voice hard. “You're my friend, my _best_ friend. You and Ron...there's nothing I wouldn't do for you two, so don't you dare blame yourself for this. I was the one who wasn't being as careful as I should have been, and took my eyes off Greyback for a second too long.”

“You can't blame yourself either,” Harry shot back, groaning with pain as he forced himself to sit up, while Hermione helped him up one-handed. “You didn't _ask_ Greyback to turn you, he's to blame, not you.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but at that same moment his bedroom door opened and in bustled the last person Harry expected to see: Madam Pomfrey.

“Awake at last, Potter?” she asked, and Harry nodded, the small movement making his shoulder ache. He grimaced at the pain, but she did not visibly react to it, instead pushing forward as though she hadn't noticed. “Good, take this,” she said, and pulled out a blue vial of potion from the potions bag on the bedside table. She handed an identical one to Hermione. “It will help with the pain, and I have Professor Slughorn brewing a batch of Wolfsbane Potion for the both of you.”

Harry turned to Hermione, who looked just as troubled as he did. After seeing the difference in Remus on and off of Wolfsbane, Harry was more than a little reluctant to take it.

“Thanks, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione said to her quickly, and she nodded a little.

“I've left some extra vials with Mr Weasley, and I will be back in a few hours to check on your bandages, all right?” The pair nodded, and she slipped out of the room, as quickly as she had come, shutting it firmly behind her.

“What do you want to do, Hermione?” Harry asked, knowing full well that she'd understand what he meant by _do_.

“I don't know,” she answered honestly, her eyes shining a little, “I can't leave Ron, but I don't know if I can _stay_ either...” She frowned and rotated her shoulders, “I just feel...trapped.”

“You don't know if you can stay with Ron?” Harry asked, frowning as he unstoppered the vial and knocked it back. As with most potions it was exceptionally foul, and tasted very much like petrol mixed with bad eggs. He gagged it down as Hermione shook her head, and took her own dose before she explained.

“No, I mean stay in the wizarding world. I mean, things are better for them— _us_ , now, but...” she trailed off, shaking her head.

Harry knew what she meant. Even with everything that had changed in the last few years, they were outsiders now.

“What happened?” Harry asked, keen to shift topics. He felt the same edgy, caged-in feeling that Hermione had mentioned, and he hoped that at least talking might help distract him from it. “After...I mean, I remember you and Ron finding me, but it's all pretty hazy.”

Hermione did not speak at first, her gaze focused instead on the bandage on her forearm. Harry waited patiently, and he relaxed a little as the potion began to do its work, and some of the pain began to fade.

“Well, we—Ron and I, I mean—wanted to check on you since it was _the_ moon, and when we got there you weren't there. We both figured that the park was the most likely place you'd be, since it has the most open space for a werewolf to run. You were hurt very badly when we found you, with _two_ bites, we didn't know what to make of it—”

“—Moony,” Harry filled in with a frown, his gaze dropping as well. “He tried to protect me from Greyback, but when he couldn't beat him, he turned on me.” He chanced a glance up, and saw that her anguished expression had shifted to one of shock. For Harry, the concept that Moony had turned on him still felt so surreal, and it hadn't completely sunk in yet for him. Keen to not dwell on it for too long, he addressed Hermione again. “What happened next?”

“Ron picked you up, but when we were getting ready to head back to Grimmauld Place Greyback appeared—it almost seemed like he came out of nowhere—but it was raining so hard we couldn't see very far and he sliced open my arm. I told Ron to run but he wouldn't...he shot a Stunner at Greyback, but you know werewolves are very powerful magical beings so it didn't do much beyond knock him back a few feet, but it was far enough for us to run off.

“Greyback came after us of course, and I just kept throwing Stunning Spells at him while Ron ran ahead with you, but it was like trying to knock out a bear with a marshmallow. We made it back inside the warding, and that's when I blacked out,” she finished, while she drew her knees up to her chest. Her wide-eyed terror at what was to come next in their lives shone in her eyes. Harry couldn't recall ever seeing Hermione look so frightened. Something else occurred to him too while she was telling her tale, something that perhaps she hadn't realized yet.

Given that she'd survived her turning, outside of the rituals Ulrich had mentioned to him, she was a Dominant werewolf, not a Submissive, like he was.

He wondered vaguely how that would affect her relationship with Ron, or if indeed anything would change between them at all. He wanted to believe that their relationship could survive anything, but this was _big_.

Instead of speaking, Harry reached out for her hand and she took it at once, squeezing tightly.

A soft tapping on the door drew them out of their moment, and Harry glanced up to see Ginny and Ron let themselves into the room.

“Hey guys,” Harry said, his voice cracking a little at the sight of them. It felt so strange, like there was an invisible wall between them now, dividing the two humans from the two werewolves. Madam Pomfrey's entrance and exit had been so fast that Harry hadn't had time to really think on it, but now that he'd had a chance to, it felt strange— _very_ strange.

“How're you feeling?” Ginny asked as she pulled up a chair. Her eyes immediately fell to the thick bandages on his shoulder and side, and a horrified, anguished look filled her eyes. Ron had sat down on the other side of the bed and took Hermione's hands in his. She offered him a weak, sad smile as their fingers laced together.

“I'm all right,” Harry answered her at last, “I mean...I'm not _fine_ , but...I don't know.” Harry shook his head a little, but it didn't help to clear his thoughts nearly as much as he hoped that it would. “It's a bit overwhelming.”

“I'll bet,” Ginny replied with a humourless laugh. She reached for his hand and offered it a light squeeze, “I know it's a bit soon, but...have you given any thought to what you're going to do?”

Harry knew what she meant, but he'd been awake for less than an hour. Harry wasn't sure if she knew that or not, but nevertheless he knew his answer. He wasn't entirely certain if Ginny or Ron would understand it however, and he offered up a vague shrug.

“I haven't had a chance to really think about it,” he replied vaguely, “it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while, I still have some time.”

 

~*~

 

That evening, Hermione left with Ron to head back to their flat.

Harry didn't want her to go, he felt a strange sense of disconnect without her nearby, and he wondered vaguely if this was the Pack feeling that bound werewolves together. She seemed uncertain about leaving, and kept glancing back at Harry worriedly.

“Go on,” Harry said, and forced a small smile, “you and Ron need some time together after...everything.”

Hermione's eyes turned to glass, and she broke away from Ron to hurry back to Harry's bedside, and pulled him into a tight hug. He hissed as the move aggravated his wounds, but not enough to be considered genuinely painful. He hugged her back just as tightly, and after a moment she let him go, then reluctantly left Harry alone.

 

But not for long.

 

Hermione and Ron hadn't been gone ten minutes when he heard the muffled flare of his Floo coming to life, and thirty seconds later he saw Ginny letting herself into his room.

“Ron contacted me and told me that he took Hermione home,” she explained while she pulled up a seat next to his bed. “I figured you could use some company.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a faint smile. “I don't...I mean, it feels weird to be alone.” Harry fell silent, and his thoughts strayed back to what had brought him here. It wasn't Remus's fault, but Harry found it difficult to _not_ lay blame on him. If Remus hadn't walked back into his life that day, _none_ of this would have happened.

“Remus...” Harry began, the name slipping past his lips almost of its own accord, and immediately Ginny reached for Harry's hand and gave it a soft squeeze. He tried to ignore the mixed sense of longing and anger that he felt at the thought of the older man.

“He wanted to come see you while you were sleeping,” she said gently, “but Ron wouldn't let him into the house. They yelled at each other a bit, then Remus took off. I think he wanted to make it up to you, but Ron said he'd done enough damage, and wouldn't let Remus near you when you were so vulnerable.”

 

Harry didn't know how he felt about that.

 

He had hoped that once the bond broke, he would lose his feelings for Remus. That would be proof that all of it had been the bond, and Harry had not truly fallen for the older man.

But festering at the back of his mind was a desperate _need_ that he still felt for Remus. This time, Harry couldn't claim that it was the bond at work—it was _him_.

“It's good that Ron didn't let him in,” Harry said at last, “I want to be over him, really, I do, and his scent here makes it harder.”

“Is that really what you want, Harry?” Ginny asked softly, her tone uncertain, but cautious.

“Yes,” he answered at once, and turned to meet her worried eyes. “Ginny, I love him, I do, but...I can't go there again. He took everything that I was, everything that I _am_ , and destroyed it. I hardly recognize myself anymore. It's better that we're not together.”

His hand tightened in hers, but she didn't answer him. She looked troubled and unconvinced, but did not speak on it, and merely held Harry's hand in silent reassurance.

 

~*~

 

After two days in bed, the caged-in, restless feeling he'd woken up with had become almost too much for him to handle. Thanks to his newly acquired werewolf abilities, Harry was subject to a number of sensory experiences that left him feeling distinctly overloaded and overwhelmed all at once.

It took about twenty-four hours for his other senses to kick in, and the faintest smell was enough to make him dizzy, and his head pounded from his heightened hearing.

The bites had healed fairly quickly, and now were little more than a faint pink swath of skin, but the muscles, bones, tendons, and internal organs were all still healing, and it still hurt to move.

 _I need to get out of here,_ Harry thought anxiously as Ginny marched him back to bed, insisting he rest after she'd caught him pacing in the sitting room that afternoon, _I need a new start._

 

The knowledge that he needed to leave had come to him easily, and with very little anguish at the thought of leaving everything that he had ever known and loved behind. Too much of Grimmauld Place reminded him of Remus, of his human life, of what he'd lost. He _needed_ to leave—he wanted to get out to Greyback's pack territory. He knew the man wasn't exactly the friendliest person in the world, but he genuinely believed that he would offer him a place in the pack—he _was_ kin, after all.

Unfortunately, Ginny didn't seem to completely get that, and refused to let him go anywhere until he was properly healed.

“I promised Madam Pomfrey that I wouldn't let you out of my sight until you were actually better, and running off to God-Knows-Where isn't going to help you get well, now _lie down_.”

“Ginny, for the last fucking time, I'm _fine_ ,” he protested as he was forced back onto the bed, “would you stop being such a goddamn mother hen?”

“Well, I have to, seeing as you won't care for yourself properly,” she shot back.

“Mini Molly,” Harry said, and she glared at him.

“Shut up.”

Harry offered her a grin, then eased back on the bed. The silence between them was warm and familiar, and though she was acting as his warden, Harry didn't feel at all awkward. He wasn't certain if explaining to Ginny the claustrophobia he was experiencing would help, and instead chose a topic that did not revolve around him, for a change.

“So where's Malfoy? I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since I woke up.”

“We're still seeing each other, if that's what you're asking,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “He just is fed up of being dragged into your...stuff. He doesn't care if I'm here or not, he just thinks...” she trailed off with a frown.

“He just thinks what?” Harry asked, and Ginny hesitated, offering him an apologetic half smile before she spoke, picking her words carefully.

“He thinks you should clean up your own messes. He doesn't really see that sometimes you can't, you know? I think part of it is you two have history, so he doesn't care to learn as much compared to if it was someone else, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said with a small smile.

Discussing Ginny's relationship problems was a precious reprieve. It was almost enough to make him forget everything that happened, how much had changed in just two short years. Not focusing on his own problems, even if for a short while felt good.

As far as Harry was concerned, not thinking about Remus, or werewolves, or anything else about his own life was a blessing.

 

Ginny left that evening after dinner, which after much fussing Harry finally managed to sit at his own table for the first time since he'd woken up. He was still sore, but given that he was in no danger of tearing open any of his injuries, he saw no reason not to.

“I'll be back early tomorrow, okay?” she said, and Harry smiled at her warmly, drawing her in for a hug.

“You don't _have_ to, you know, I'm okay,” Harry replied, but Ginny looked unconvinced. “I mean, I'm not running though the hills, wind in my hair, _the hills are alive with the sound of music_ fine, but...I'm coping.”

Ginny stared at him, confusion at his statement written all over her face, but after a moment the caring, worried smile returned.

“I'll be back tomorrow.”

Ginny disappeared into his fireplace in a flash of green, and the moment Harry was certain that she wasn't about to run back to Grimmauld place at once, he got up and ascended the stairs slowly, his hand resting over the scarring on his side left by Moony, it aching dully from the small amount of activity he'd engaged in that day.

Upon reaching his bedroom Harry did not lie down to rest. He went to his wardrobe and dug out his old rucksack, drew out his wand from his jeans pocket, then began to summon various items from around the room—clothes, toiletries, the mokeskin pouch Hagrid had given him, his photo album, his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, and the shards of the mirror that Sirius had given him.

He packed it all in the bag as neatly as he could, then turned to the last two orders of business before he could officially leave his human life behind.

He wrote a short letter to Hagrid, asking him to take care of Strax for him, now that he couldn't, and headed downstairs to send off the owl with the letter, who seemed to have some inkling about its contents, and appeared quite distressed as Harry sent him off.

That finished, Harry took a slow breath in an effort to calm his shaking, and called out to the ancient house elf.”

 

“Kreacher?”

 

_Crack!_

 

“Master called?” Kreacher croaked, appearing at once and bowed low to Harry, then straightened up as he awaited some sort of command.

“Yeah. Er—I'd like you to go to McGonagall at Hogwarts, tell her that I'd like you to work there for the next little while. Can you do that?”

Harry had no idea what sort of reaction the order might bring, and he could clearly see the look of distress in the ancient elf's eyes, but he vocalized none of it. Instead, he bowed low.

“Kreacher will do as Master wishes. Kreacher will go to the school.”

Another sharp _crack!_ And he was gone.

 

“Guess there's only one thing left to do...” Harry muttered to himself, and looked towards the entryway of the house. His hand tightened on the strap of his bag, but he couldn't convince himself to move. As he stood there, memories flooded back to him, the Christmases he'd spent with his friends here, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, chatting idly with Remus while he cooked, their evenings in the sitting room, sometimes talking, sometimes reading. Harry felt a warmth settle in the pit of his stomach as he recalled all these small moments, but the nostalgia made his heart ache for what he had lost.

 _Why did it have to happen like this?_ He wondered for the hundredth time, and shook his head a little in an effort to dispel the misery that began to flood into him, but the action did not help very much.

At last, Harry took his first steps towards the door, and made it almost all the way into the front hall when a knock sounded from the door.

Harry knew at once that the person knocking was a werewolf. He wasn't certain exactly _how_ he knew, but Harry supposed that it had something to do with his newfound senses.

In addition to knowing that it was a werewolf, Harry also knew with absolute certainty that it was _not_ Remus. The scent was familiar, however, and as he opened the door, he also found himself relieved that it was also not Greyback.

“Hey Harry,” Ulrich said with a kind half-smile, his thick arms crossed across his chest as he looked down at Harry.

“Um, hey,” Harry replied, blinking in confusion. “Um, not to be rude or nothing but...what're you doing here?”

“I came to get you,” Ulrich replied with an arched brow, as though he thought the reason for his presence was rather obvious. “Alpha wanted you dragged back to the territory right away, but I thought you might need a bit of time to acclimate to everything before we brought you to the pack.”

“Yeah, good call, that,” Harry replied with a weak, humourless laugh. “Er, how did you know that I'd want to go to the territory, and not make a go of it in the wizarding world?”

“Alpha would have wanted you to come regardless, but the lure of a fresh start is one not many would pass up,” Ulrich said simply.

“You sound like you're speaking from experience.”

 

Ulrich smiled.

 

“I might be,” he answered a vague shrug, and held out a hand. “Ready to go?”

Harry nodded at once and took it. Ulrich led him down into his front garden, just beyond the Anti-Apparition warding, then moved his hand to squeeze Harry's shoulder tightly.

Harry felt the pull of Side-Along Apparition take hold, and Harry clenched his eyes shut, not certain what he was heading for, but positive that it would be better than what he was leaving behind.


	2. The Sub House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you guys so much for the warm reception of chapter one! :) Here is chapter two, and we're still on updates every two weeks, so the next one will be April 21st. Like I said, as soon as I have enough completed I'll go up to weekly updates, but we're not quite there yet. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! ^^

Chapter Two – The Sub House

 

Harry's feet slammed into hard-packed ground, and immediately his senses were assaulted by the presence of the dozens of werewolves that now surrounded him.

The scent, their impossibly loud chatter, the mere _feeling_ of them being nearby—for a moment it was too much for Harry. He bowed his head forward, clenched his eyes shut, and struggled to find his equilibrium.

“Harry?” Ulrich asked, his hand still on his shoulder, “are you all right?”

“F-fine,” he mumbled, though he didn't exactly _feel_ fine. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

Harry took several slow breaths, and though the feeling of sensory overload did not abate, he straightened up and looked around.

 

The clearing looked almost the same as it had the last time that Harry visited. The huge space was occupied by the same huts, the same large, crackling bonfire (though Harry noticed that strangely, it seemed to give off no smoke), and the mouth of the cave at the far end of the clearing was now covered by a sheet of what appeared to been muggle tarpaulin.

This time when Harry appeared, the children and sub wolves did not appear frightened by his presence, but seemed to be cautiously keeping their distance as well. Harry wasn't certain what might be the cause of them giving him and the beta such a wide berth, but he was given little time to dwell on it as he was steered away from the main area. Ulrich's hand was still gripping his shoulder, though Harry couldn't work out if the contact was meant to be possessive or reassuring—with all the new senses overwhelming him, Harry found it difficult to focus on much of anything at the moment.

 

He and Ulrich wove through the dozens of wooden cabins; all of them seemed to be big enough to house one or two people, or a small family. There was one building much larger than the others that looked less like a cabin and more like a long farmhouse of some kind, but Harry was given little time to ponder on what it could be as he was guided away from it and towards the very back of the space.

They stopped before a cabin that was slightly larger than the others, and raised on a small incline that seemed to serve as some sort of dais. Ulrich did not pause as he let Harry go and swept past him to let himself in, and Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he followed his lead.

The moment Harry crossed the threshold, he knew at once that this had to be Greyback's cabin; even if the size and fact that it was raised slightly above the others had not been present, the distinct scent of _power_ that assaulted his senses as he stepped inside was enough, and Harry felt deeply out of place being inside it.

The cabin's interior was very Spartan. It held a number of furs piled in one corner that seemed to serve as some sort of makeshift bed, there were several of pairs of jeans stacked nearby, but Harry could see no other articles of clothing. There was a fire pit in the centre of the space, and a hallway that led deeper into the cabin, though Harry could not see where it led. There was nothing else.

The sparse décor gave Harry the impression that Greyback spent very little time in the cabin, which he supposed was to be expected—as leader of the pack, likely his duties kept him busy. The emptiness of it still seemed sad to Harry for some strange reason, though he could not work out what had sparked that feeling.

“Have a seat,” Ulrich said, drawing Harry out of his musings as he motioned to one of the long log benches that were arranged around the empty fire pit. “Alpha and I need to speak with you before you go to get settled.”

Without another word, the beta werewolf spun on his heel and stepped out of the cabin.

Harry stared at the spot Ulrich had occupied not thirty seconds before, slightly startled by being left alone so abruptly, and he shook his head to refocus his attention back on the situation at hand.

Greyback needed to speak with him, but Harry couldn't fathom about _what._ He'd been in the territory less than five minutes, had he somehow done something wrong already?

 

As Harry continued to ponder, the door creaked back open and Greyback stepped inside.

Greyback was virtually unchanged from the last few times that Harry had seen him. Tall and broad, silver hair brushed back out of his face, and he still looked like he was made out of a solid wall of muscle. Now however, there was the added sensation of _Alpha_ that radiated off him, a feeling that caused Harry to know without the shadow of a doubt that this man was in charge. He'd had an inkling of that before, of course, but now the impression now struck Harry more as an incontrovertible fact. It was a very strange feeling.

“Potter,” Greyback nodded once, “where is your friend?”

“Friend?” Harry asked blankly.

“The one I turned, in addition to you.”

“Oh.” Harry felt a lump of guilt settle in his throat, and it took him a moment to find his voice again. “She's with her fiancé. She hasn't decided what she wants to do yet.”

“Hm,” he grunted, and both of the dominant werewolves stepped towards Harry. He felt his stomach knot with panic, though he could not work out the source of this feeling—he _knew_ that both Greyback and Ulrich meant him no harm, but still he felt strangely cornered by their dual presence. Before he could stop himself, he took a minor step back. Neither of the werewolves missed the movement, and Ulrich stepped back a little. Harry felt some of the _cornered_ sensation leave him.

“This is a conversation we have with all our subs before we leave you to get settled,” Greyback explained evenly, with less of a growl in his voice than Harry would have expected, and he motioned to one of the log benches just as Ulrich had earlier. Harry sat down stiffly, and Greyback sat down about a foot away from him, but his skin still hummed with unease at the alpha's closeness. Ulrich kept his distance, and rested back against the wall next to the front door.

“Er, okay,” Harry replied, blinking in confusion as he stared up at Greyback, and patiently waited for the alpha to explain himself, as he waited, Harry's hands curled into nervous fists in his lap.

“Potter, how much do you know about submissive wolves?” Greyback asked, staring so intently at him that Harry felt more than a little unsettled, and he squirmed nervously in place.

“Er, only what R—er, only what I've read, and what Ulrich's told me,” Harry answered as he glanced away from the alpha. “They—er, _we're_ physically weaker, female werewolves get pregnant really easily, and a lot of packs don't treat their male subs very well.”

“That's fairly accurate,” Greyback said with an approving nod, “only female subs can get pregnant, however; female dominants are barren.” The alpha paused and cleared his throat, then went back to the point, but Harry felt himself blanch a little. He wondered if Hermione knew that.

“I do not allow my dominants to harass the subs,” Greyback continued, “if a sub says no, that is the end of it. However, we are still having some difficulty with s few dominants forgetting themselves, and it has led to some...shall we say, uncomfortable situations. It is not dangerous to be an unmated sub in my pack, but you would do well to not wander off alone. Some of the subs here have refused to name their attackers, and thus I have yet to weed out all of the would-be rapists.”

“We have a communal cabin for the unmated subs to use,” Ulrich added, “safety in numbers. You're welcome to stay there, but if you'd rather, we also have a few empty cabins ready if you want live alone.”

“I'll take the communal cabin thing,” Harry said at once, lifting his gaze to Ulrich first, then to Greyback, but he was careful to not meet their eyes. “Erm, I do want to know one thing though, before you continue.” Harry paused, and Greyback nodded for him to continue. “That night...what happened? Why did you tend to Remus? Why did he...” Harry trailed off with a wince, the betrayal he felt at Remus turning on him still burned in him.

“Remus has done a number of unforgivable acts of late,” Greyback began, “chief among them his treatment of you. But the one thing that will never change is that I am his alpha. At the end of of the day, my word will override any of his pathetic morals.

“When I came to turn you, and he could not defeat me in a fight, he was obligated to do as I bid—turning you. Him biting you was the only way to ensure that the bond would break cleanly, and my biting you at the same time was merely insurance, to make sure he followed through with it. In his wolf state, he would feel compelled to follow my lead.” Greyback finished, and Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, and a confusing sort of nausea replaced some of his nervousness.

“You knew that Remus would come and try and protect me from you,” Harry said, “you knew that he would try and stop you.”

“I did,” Greyback said with a short nod, “Remus is pack, as much as you are now. While I defeated him, I had no intention of causing him permanent injury.”

“Er—what will happen if Remus shows up here?” Harry asked, and winced at how timid he sounded.

“He will be welcomed,” Greyback answered without hesitation. Ulrich did not look happy about this, and opened his mouth to speak, but one look from his alpha silenced him. Ulrich crossed his arms and clenched his jaw, but said nothing. “You are not special, Potter. My pack will not revolve around you.”

“I never said—”

“—quiet,” Greyback snapped, and the dangerous tone was warning enough for Harry to snap his mouth shut at once. “Your history with Remus means nothing to me. If he comes back, he will have a place here. I expect both of you to act like adults and keep it from interfering with our lives here. I have enough to deal with without having to babysit you two as well. Am I making myself clear?”

“Clear,” Harry replied, his mouth twitching into a frown. He had privately hoped that Greyback would not let Remus into the territory, but in retrospect, he realized that such a hope was not only petty, but selfish as well.

“Right, now, last things: Formal meals are at dawn, midday, and dusk, but werewolf appetites being what they are, there is always food available for late risers and throughout the day,” Greyback continued as though the tense moment had never happened. “All of the pack is barred from leaving the territory at the moment, we're having a bit of a problem with rogue wolves. When you're taken to the Sub House, the leader of the sub wolves will fill you in on what jobs are open to you.”

“Um,” Harry's vocalization stopped Greyback short when it was clear that he was about to dismiss him, “I was told that male subs are kind of like...glorified babysitters,” Harry winced at the words, and forced himself to continue, “but that's really not my thing. I mean, I was an Auror, defence, duelling, that's sort of my area of expertise.”

“Dominants are the ones who defend the territory,” Greyback answered simply, a note of impatience in his tone, “not submissives. That's just something that you'll just have to get used to. Ulrich, bring him to Adina.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Ulrich said as Harry opened his mouth to protest, and but the beta closed the distance between them, grabbed Harry by the shoulder, and pulled him to his feet before he could say anything in protest. Without a word, Ulrich steered Harry from the cabin.

“Don't push your luck,” The beta hissed when they were a safe distance from the cabin, and Harry watched Greyback burst from it a moment later and stride off. When he was out of sight, Ulrich continued. “Nobody here gives a rat's fart if you're the Chosen One, or the Queen of England, or the Supreme Ruler of the Universe. We're all treated the same. Werewolves will solve their problems with fists and teeth first, and words second. A few more protests, and Alpha would have not hesitated in beating you down to teach you a lesson. Just remember that.”

“I don't want to be treated differently,” Harry muttered back to him, his face flaming, “I just...” Harry trailed off, and dropped his gaze to the ground, and kicked at a small stone as they wove through the cabins. In truth, he had no idea what he wanted, but what he _did_ know was that he had absolutely no desire to see Remus any time soon. The fact that he couldn't distract himself with a kind of work that he was good at was a serious blow, and the idea that he had possibly gone from Auror to nanny did not sit well with him.

“It will be an adjustment,” Ulrich said gently as they walked, “I know your situation is somewhat complicated, but in time you will find your place here, whatever it may be.”

“Right,” Harry responded, and Ulrich smiled at him, though he did not feel capable of returning it.

 

“What is the problem with the rogue wolves that Greyback mentioned?” Harry asked to break the silence, and Ulrich staggered to a stop. He glanced at Harry, a look of reluctance on his face, but after a moment's hesitation, he spoke.

“This particular pack is made up of lone wolves and wolves that have been exiled from their pack for one reason or another,” Ulrich explained softly, “they are savages; they rape and pillage human towns, they tear apart humans for sport...they are the true monsters that the wizarding Ministry paints us all as.” Ulrich paused, a look of pure disgust on his face. To his explanation, Harry felt a cold chill rush through him. _How is it that this is the first I'm hearing of this?_ he wondered, unsettled that in his time with the Ministry, he had not heard anything about rogue packs like this.

“These ones have fixated on Alpha,” Ulrich continued, “they want our pack. I'm sure you understand why we don't want that to happen. A few subs have already been near-victims of them, and we lost three dominants to them in the last weeks—the ones who captured you when you first came here, and one other. Alpha has the pack confined to the territory until he and the fighters in the pack can take care of this threat.” As he fell silent, the beta reached out and gripped Harry's shoulder gently. “I have heard rumours of you going off and taking care of things like this yourself, but _do not_ go off on your own, and do not leave the territory. Do you understand?”

Though Harry still hated how he seemed to be viewed as some sort of fair weakling that needed to be protected, the description of the rogues was enough to make him feel properly afraid, and he had no desire to face off with them, especially considering that at least in terms of physical strength, he was no match for any rogue dominants he'd come across. Swallowing his pride, Harry nodded once.

Ulrich pulled back his hand as a relieved smile crossed his face, he straightened up, and they continued towards the communal house. When they stopped before the large farmhouse that Harry had noticed before, Ulrich lifted his fist to the door and knocked once.

A pretty older woman answered at once, her curly silver hair was pulled back from her face in a braid, and she was dressed simply in fitted jeans and a tight T-shirt. Her eyes were a vibrant blue, with a ring of amber around the iris.

“Ulrich,” she said warmly, and stepped just outside the door, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We have a new sub,” Ulrich said, and clapped Harry on the shoulder, “this is Harry. Harry, this is Adina. For all intents and purposes, she is the alpha female of the pack—she keeps our subs out of trouble.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said as he extended his hand to her, and she took it in both of hers and gave it a small squeeze.

“Pleasure, Harry,” she said warmly. In many ways, she reminded Harry of Mrs Weasley—she had a comforting, maternal air to her, but at the same time Harry got the feeling that she was not someone that he should dare cross. “Of course, I know who you are, we owe you a great debt of gratitude for bringing down Red Moon.”

“It wasn't just me alone,” Harry said humbly. He could feel an embarrassed flush beginning to creep up his neck as his thoughts went back to that time, and his throat grew tight. He and Remus had been so happy and together back then. Why did things have get so complicated? He shook his head once and smiled at her while he forced back the memories, “but, thank you.”

“Come inside,” she said as she urged him forward and out of Ulrich's grasp, “I'll introduce you to the others.”

“Oh, but...” Harry turned back to Ulrich. Given that he was the only wolf that Harry knew—aside from Greyback, that is—the prospect of being thrown in with a bunch of strangers was somewhat daunting.

“Dominants aren't allowed inside the Sub House, dear,” she said kindly as she smiled apologetically at Harry.

“It's all right, Harry,” Ulrich said, and grinned a little as he squeezed Harry's shoulder once more before he let go. “Adina's good people, she'll take care of you.”

“Er, okay,” Harry said, and took an uncertain step forward. Adina pressed a hand to his back as she led him inside, and shut the door behind him.

Harry's stomach had been a tangle of nerves ever since he'd woken up from his attack, but the moment the door had shut, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The strong scent of the dominant werewolves was missing from the house, and instead he felt a sense of not just peace wash over him, but of community as well.

“The Sub House is open to all the unmated submissives in the pack,” Adina explained as she walked farther inside, but her lips were pressed into a strange smile, as though there was something funny about that explanation. Harry nodded to her words, paying the look on her face little mind as he took in the sights and smells of the house.

It was much bigger on the inside than the outside would suggest, and the front doors led straight into a large sitting room, adorned with mismatched armchairs around a fire pit. A stack of musty old books had been stuffed in the corner, and Harry could see a mixture of muggle and wizard fiction and nonfiction, from _Quidditch Through the Ages_ to _Watership Down_.

Adina did not pause to let him further inspect the space as she led him down a narrow hallway and into a huge communal bedroom. It reminded Harry very much of the dormitories back at Hogwarts, except that all the men and women seemed to sleep in the same room, with no gender segregation whatsoever.

Harry had expected something similar to Greyback's so-called 'bed'—a stack of furs and little else—but he was pleasantly surprised to find that the bedchamber contained ten twin beds, all identical, with blue cotton bedsheets and a plain wooden trunk at the end of each one.

The beds were mostly empty, but many carried all the hallmarks of use, from how the bed had been made (or left as a tangle of blankets) to the way some of the trunks did not close properly, given the fact that they were overstuffed with possessions, while others looked practically new. At the far end of the room, one bed was taken up by a pretty young woman, her dark hair pulled back into an intricate herringbone braid, with olive skin and dark, kind eyes. Her nose buried in a very warped and yellowed old paperback, which was propped against the swell of her very pregnant stomach. This struck Harry as slightly odd, given that Adina had told him not minutes before that the house was for _unmated_ subs.

“Harry,” Adina said gently as she led him over to the bed, “this is Jade. She just moved back into the House.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said as she looked up and offered him a small smile, and she took one of his hands and shook it briefly before she pulled back.

“You too, Harry,” she replied with a faint smile, but it did not make it all the way to her eyes, which carried a sad look to them. “This is a good House, I'm sure you will be happy here.”

“Erm, thanks,” he replied, while he forced his gaze to remain upon her face, and not on her belly. He was curious, but it seemed somewhat tactless to point-blank ask her about it. She seemed to sense his curiosity however, and explained.

“My mate was attacked by the rogues that have taken up residence just beyond our borders,” she explained as she rested a hand lightly upon the top of her stomach, “not all the dominant males were kind enough to let me mourn him before I moved on, and so I came back here for sanctuary—at least until my children are born.”

“Dominants like to think they run the show,” Adina added with a note of bitterness in her tone, “they feel that because of their superior physical strength, speed, and hunting abilities, they can take what they want, instead of asking for it.”

“Yeah, I'm familiar with that mentality,” Harry muttered, his thoughts flitting back to Remus, and how he had acted the last few times he had seen him.

“Fenrir is one of the few alphas that allow their subs to have safe space away from dominants,” Jade said with a faint smile, “not all the doms agree with him, though.”

“Greyback mentioned something about some handsy dominants,” Harry added as he dropped down on the bed next to Jade.

“ _Handsy_ would be putting it mildly,” Adina said with a frown, but did not elaborate. She opened her mouth to say more, but at that same moment Harry heard the front door burst open and a man came running in, his cheeks flushed.

If Harry was to describe his appearance with one word, he would say that he was _pretty._ Unlike many of the dominants that Harry had seen up to that point, this werewolf was barely taller than Harry. He was leanly built, with eyes that seemed to flit between liquid gold and amber; his skin was very brown and freckly, giving Harry the impression that he spent a lot of time outside, and his hair was cut very close to the scalp in tight, minuscule curls.

“Adina, the hunting party is back, and Alpha said—” he broke off suddenly as his eyes fell to Harry, and he smiled, “I see we have a new face.”

“This is Harry,” Adina answered with a chuckle, her hand falling to rest on Harry's shoulder. “Harry, this is Tavish.”

Harry felt his face burn when Tavish's eyes raked his hairline, but like all the other werewolves he'd met so far, his kindly expression never wavered.

“Good to meet you, Harry,” Tavish said as he extended a hand to Harry, and they shook once.

“You were saying, Tavish?” Adina prompted, and her voice seemed to snapped the young man from his daze, and he looked back to her.

“Um, yeah, the hunting party's back, so Alpha wants you to get started on having the meat salted and stored.” Much to Harry's surprise, Adina's expression shifted to irritation, and she stepped away from Harry and Jade with a growl of annoyance.

“I swear, it's not that damnably difficult to dry and salt meat, I'm not the pack cook...” she let out another low growl, then shook her head. “Harry, I'll be back later after I get this sorted, if you choose to leave the House, stay close to the other subs and don't wander off alone unless you _want_ to get ravaged by an overexcited dominant.”

“Er, okay,” Harry replied, “er, what should I do about...?” he motioned to the rucksack still perched on his shoulder.

“Oh! I'm sorry, dear, it completely slipped my mind,” she said with a small, tinkling laugh. “Take any bed you like, it's up to you.”

Without another word, Adina turned and bustled out of the house.

“Here,” Tavish said as he turned towards the opposite side of the room, and motioned for Harry to follow him, “you can have this one.”

Harry began to stand, but paused as he looked back at Jade, but she offered him a small smile.

“Go on, Harry,” she said kindly as she picked back up her book. “I wouldn't mind a little rest. Don't worry about me.”

Tavish grinned at Jade's words, took Harry's hand, and brought him over to the far end of the room, and to a bed that was pressed up against the wall, the one opposite clearly already in use, if the rumpled bedsheets and stack of books on the night table were anything to go by.

“This is mine,” Tavish said as he dropped down on it, “I was the only male unmated sub left,” he explained, but like Adina, he paused and seemed to be swallowing a laugh, as though he was in on some sort of private joke. “It'll be nice to not be the only bloke in here again, and, no offence, but you seriously look like you could use a friend.”

“Is it that obvious?” Harry asked with a feeble laugh as he dropped the rucksack on the bedspread and sat down. “It's been a hectic few months...to put it lightly.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Tavish asked, his voice softening further, and Harry immediately shook his head.

“Let's just say the person that I thought was the love of my life betrayed me and completely ruined my life...” Harry began, and Tavish jumped in as he trailed off.

“That was that older dominant that was here for a short time...Remus, was it?” Tavish asked, and Harry felt his face burn—in all the chaos over the last few weeks, he'd completely forgotten that Tavish would know who Remus was.

“Er, yeah,” Harry replied, unable to meet the fellow sub's eye, “he...I...” Harry trailed off and shook his head; it felt like a strong hand was constricting around his heart, and his eyes were beginning to burn. “I'd rather not talk about him, if that's all right,” Harry said and winced when his voice came out as barely a whisper. When he looked back up, he saw that Tavish was regarding him with a look of sympathy.

“Yeah, sure,” the other werewolf said, smiling kindly, “c'mon, I'll show you around the territory.” He extended a hand, and with a faint smile of his own Harry took it and allowed himself to be led from the House.

 

Harry hadn't seen much of the territory when he'd first arrived, given that Ulrich had more or less made a beeline for Greyback's cabin. Now, Tavish led him around like some sort of happy-go-lucky tour guide, introducing him to the other subs in the pack, all of which were women except for two, though the males were mated subs, and they seemed more keen to spend time with their mates than the other subs of the pack.

It was also quite clear that when he had been told that female subs were extremely fertile (Harry tried to forget that it was Remus who had told him, because any thought of him was painful) was not an understatement. Every single mated female sub that Harry caught sight of was pregnant, and there were children positively _everywhere._

Almost a literal flock of kids, varying in age from infancy all the way to adolescence, being corralled by a number of laughing women and young men.

Harry was amazed at the scene before him—the peaceful, easy happiness of these people, families, children untarnished by war, and he felt a twinge of anger at the Ministry, and how long it had spent trying to persecute these people for simply being what they are.

At a distance, Harry had caught sight of the dominant wolves, and he felt his stomach turn over uneasily. The heady, musky scent of them swirled around Harry, and he felt like a house elf facing a giant. Almost all of them were well over six feet, and built very powerfully. The domineering attitudes seemed to radiate off them, and though they weren't unfriendly, Harry still felt apprehensive about going anywhere near them. He caught sight of Ulrich a few times, but he seemed busy keeping everyone in check, though every time he spotted Harry he offered him a warm smile and nod in recognition.

 

After about an hour of wandering about with Tavish, he picked up some lunch for the two of them, and Harry joined him on one of the logs that circled the huge, ever-burning bonfire.

“So, erm,” Harry paused as he popped a chunk of roasted meat into his mouth, “is it true that male subs are basically babysitters and not much else?” Tavish regarded him oddly, and Harry quickly elaborated. “Before I was turned, I was an Auror—I just, Greyback said I can't do that here, it's not my _job_ as a sub,” Harry wrinkled his nose as his voice escaped him in a sneer, “but...looking after a bunch of kids, and not doing something with magical defence or protection...it's just not me.”

“It's a bit of a culture shock for most turned werewolves,” Tavish hedged, “but the society out here is not equal. We're not built to protect, not like the dominants are. It's better for us to stay in here—it's safer. No, minding the children isn't the only job that subs have, there's working in the fields, cooking, preserving food for winter, midwifery...But Alpha is the one who will assign you somewhere. He usually gives new werewolves a few days to get used to life here, then he'll probably send you off to work somewhere.”

Harry frowned, and ate a little more to keep from answering. He had a damn good Auror, and that wasn't necessarily physical strength—it was magical, too. Would he really not get the chance to prove himself? Would he be shunted aside as some sort of invalid? Harry felt a vague sense of gloom settle over him; it just wasn't _fair_.

 


	3. This Too Shall Pass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In this chapter there will be mention of an OC named Ciara, but I mean the Irish pronunciation of it, which is Kira(keer-ah). I won't be posting again until two days after I turn 28 years old. Which, lucky for you guys, is in like 2 weeks—May 5th. :P I promise I'm doing my best to get enough done to go up to weekly updates, but alas real life stuff sometimes gets in the way of me writing as much as I want (like finals. Nyeeeh.) It's roughly about halfway done, and as I have said before, once the first draft is fully complete I'll start posting weekly.

Chapter Three – This Too Shall Pass

 

The days passed, and slowly Harry began to acclimate to his new life with the pack.

Most unfortunately, in the whirlwind of newness, Harry had quite forgotten one important thing—werewolves did not feel the same way about nudity that wizards did. As a result, his first few mornings and evenings in the Sub House he was subject to a houseful of half-naked women prancing about as they changed.

This was something of a minor problem; Harry wasn't completely gay, after all, and it took a great amount of self control to keep his eyes to himself—and to covertly take care of the problems that this caused in the bath, though he was certain that he hadn't managed to hide his 'problem' from the others very well—if Tavish's lewd grins at him were anything to go by.

With the dominant wolves, Harry didn't have any problems keeping his eyes to himself. They all reminded him of Remus in one way or another, and his heartbreak far eclipsed any desire that he may have felt at gazing upon their sweat-slicked bare chests as they returned from a hunt, with deer or boar carcasses draped over their shoulders as though they weighed nothing; or when they were tending to firewood, or any other such tasks that were deemed too physically taxing for a 'delicate' sub like himself.

 

The other major change that Harry had struggled to get used to was the dire warnings that he shouldn't wander off alone, and he quickly discovered that that could extend to being a mere few feet from the other submissives. Harry had learnt this the hard way when on his third night a brazen dominant that he knew by face but not by name sauntered up to him and pulled Harry flush against his chest without a word.

Harry yelped in surprise as the of the dominant's arms clamped around his waist, while the large man buried his nose in the crook of Harry's neck to inhale deeply, and his long dirty blond hair fell forward to tickle Harry's cheek unpleasantly.

“Hmm, you smell divine, little one,” he purred, “why don't you warm my bed tonight?”

“I don't even know you,” Harry protested as he squirmed in the hold, but the man didn't release him, “let _go_.”

“Oh, come now, don't play hard to get,” he said as he laughed in a good-natured sort of way, and nipped at Harry's throat, while his free hand moved to rest over his left buttock, and gave it a sharp squeeze, “I know you'll enjoy yourself.”

“I'm not playing hard to get,” Harry ground out, “I'm not interested. Let me go!” Harry jerked his leg forward, aiming for the man's groin, but he caught Harry's knee between his thighs without much effort. The situation caused Harry mental state to shift quickly towards genuine panic, just when a large hand closed over his upper arm, and Harry was suddenly wrenched out of the dominant's hold.

Ulrich stepped between Harry and the other dominant, and he heard a low growl rent the air, though he couldn't tell if it came from Ulrich or the other werewolf.

“Bryce, how many times?” Ulrich demanded, “this pack does not treat their subs like toys. If Harry says no, then I expect you to walk away, not manhandle him _further._ ”

“Letting sub males run around unchecked, practically _begging_ to be claimed is no way to run a pack,” Bryce countered as he drew himself up to his full height and threw out his chest, though he was still an inch or two shorter than Ulrich. “If _I_ were in charge—”

“—well, you're not,” Ulrich snapped, “we do not treat subs like they are beneath us. I don't want to see you bothering Harry again, is that clear?”

“It's _this_ kind of namby-pamby, wishy-washy attitude that lost you Corrine in the first place,” Bryce snarled, and in an instant the werewolf was on the ground with Ulrich's hand at his throat.

Harry jumped back in alarm at the sudden attack—he hadn't even seen the beta _move_ , and his speed was more than a little frightening. Harry heard Ulrich snarl something at Bryce, though from his place he couldn't hear what it was. After a moment, Ulrich released him and the other dominant took off, grumbling under his breath as he went.

Ulrich immediately turned to Harry and rested his hands gently on his shoulders, clear concern in his dark gaze.

“Are you all right?” he asked, “did he hurt you?”

“I'm fine,” Harry replied at once, now painfully aware that everyone nearby had been watching the exchange unabashedly. Ulrich regarded him oddly, and Harry forced a faint smile, “really, I am.”

“All right,” Ulrich said, though it was quite clear that he didn't believe him, “well, if he comes back just let me know, yeah?” Ulrich gave Harry's shoulders a small squeeze, then let him go. He turned and made a beeline for Greyback, who had begun to approach them, presumably to find out what had happened.

 

Harry turned from the two leaders and quickly rejoined the other subs; he found himself caught between relief that Ulrich had stepped in, and frustration at himself for his complete inability of taking care of it on his own. He had thought that once he was free of Remus and the bond, he would feel more like himself again, and not like some weakling that was in constant need of rescuing.

“Hey, you okay?” Tavish bumped Harry's hip with his own in a friendly gesture, and Harry nodded weakly.

“I hate feeling like this—like such a...victim,” Harry said with a grimace, “what did I do to make that bastard grab at me like that?”

“You didn't do anything,” Tavish hissed at once, and Harry's eyes widened in surprise at how angry his new friend sounded. “Some of these dominants don't or refuse to understand the concept of _boundaries_. Bryce is one of the worst for that, though. You said no, he didn't listen, but maybe now he will—now that Ulrich has knocked some sense into him, and it looked like Alpha is about to remind him of that, too.”

Harry didn't respond. In spite of the reassurance, it didn't make him feel any better, nor did watching Greyback storm across the territory to where Bryce was standing. The alpha then proceeded to beat the holy hell out of him in full view of the rest of the pack, the expression upon his face reminding Harry more of a superior or professor giving their employees or students a reprimand, and not a violent beating.

What shocked Harry more than the violence itself however, was the complete lack of reaction from anyone who was watching. Even people not ten feet away acted like they couldn't see what was happening right in front of them, or regarded it with a look of boredom or disinterest. Harry forced his gaze away, and he and Tavish slipped over to the bonfire, where they sat a little ways away from the others that also occupied the space.

“Who's Corrine?” Harry asked once they'd gotten settled, “I heard Bryce mention her about three seconds before Ulrich went berserk.”

 

At first, it seemed as though Tavish might not answer. He pressed his lips together into a thin line and he gazed into the fire. When he finally spoke, his voice was so soft that Harry had to lean in very close to hear him clearly.

“Corrine was Ulrich's mate— _years_ ago,” Tavish explained, “Ulrich practically worshipped her, and she adored him. I don't think I've ever seen two people so much in love.” Tavish paused, and a small, sad smile spread across his face. Harry felt his stomach clench—he had a feeling that this story wasn't going to have a happy ending.

“Back then,” he continued, “it was fairly common in most werewolf packs for the subs to serve the dominants. We had to obey them at the drop of a hat...it was awful.” Tavish's voice broke, and he fell silent again, his gaze fixed firmly on the crackling fire.

“Dominants ran everything,” Tavish continued, “if one of them wanted us in their bed, we had to do it, or risk a beating, at the very least. A lot of male subs died for being too wilful. The female subs had it worse, because any dom who wanted children could just take one of the females, and they would be forced to carry as many or as few children as their dominant wanted of them.” Tavish paused again and shivered, and a haunted look formed in his eyes that Harry didn't like seeing on someone who was normally so cheerful. “But then Greyback became Alpha, and Ulrich got the Beta position. He changed everything and made it better.

“Even though female subs are known for being super fertile and stuff, Corrine wasn't. She and Ulrich tried for years and years for pups, and it just wouldn't happen. Around when Alpha started changing how the subs were treated, Corrine finally got pregnant, and another sub, Ciara—she'd always been jealous of Corrine, and back then, despite the power dynamics, it wasn't uncommon for subs to fight over dominants, and she poisoned her with quicksilver. Ulrich lost Corrine and the pups she was carrying, and he literally tore Ciara limb from limb.”

Tavish looked down at his hands as he finished the tale, with a small frown on his face. Harry felt a pull at his heart, and he lifted his gaze over to Ulrich, who was still watching Bryce with narrowed eyes. It was hard to believe that Ulrich could even _smile_ after enduring something like that.

“Anyone who dares mention Corrine is asking for a beating, at the very least,” Tavish said, pulling Harry from his thoughts, “he never showed romantic interest in anyone ever again, not until—” Tavish broke off and cleared his throat, “—he mourned her for a long time. I think, in a way, he'll probably never get over her. Corrine was...special.”

As Tavish finished, Harry found himself uncertain what to say. He wasn't stupid—he knew that Tavish had been about to say that Ulrich was interested in _him—_ but he wasn't certain how he felt about that. He didn't know whether or not he was ready to move on so soon, and at the same time, if he chose to try, how could he even possibly compare to someone like this Corrine, who seemed to have been so special to him?

“Harry? You okay?” Tavish asked, and his sad tone of voice shifted to one of concern. Harry blinked and looked up, and forced himself to nod a little.

“Fine,” Harry replied at once, so quickly that Tavish regarded him dubiously. “Really, I am. I just...everything out here is the exact opposite of what I was told.”

“Wizards love to demonize us,” Tavish replied with a bitter smirk, and Harry suddenly felt as though he'd been thrown back in time by ten years, and he heard Snape's sneering voice in his head, _turn to page three-hundred and ninety-four._ All Snape had focused on was how to _kill_ werewolves. The truth behind Tavish's words sent a shiver through Harry.

“You're not wrong,” Harry agreed, “I just mean, everything R-Remus told me,” Harry winced as he voiced his name, and he felt his stomach turn over again, “it's...Greyback is more like some kind of Saviour than the monster that I saw...back then.” His gaze shifted over to Ulrich again, who had joined one of the subs in keeping the children occupied. He was laughing and swinging a little blonde girl around by her armpits, and she was laughing and squealing with delight. Once more, Harry was amazed by his strength in being able to move on after going through something as horrible as that.

“We all had to do things that we didn't want to during the Wizarding War,” Tavish replied, drawing Harry's attention back to him, and he was smiling sadly. Harry was fairly certain that they had been on opposite sides during the war, and he wasn't keen to discuss those days. They were behind him, and the last thing Harry wanted to do was think about it.

“Yeah, we did,” Harry agreed at last, and stared into the crackling flames of the bonfire as the pair fell into comfortable, thoughtful silence.

 

~*~

 

It was a few days later that Greyback sought Harry out.

He was by the bonfire again, a deck of muggle playing cards out, and he was teaching muggle poker to Tavish and a few curious dominants, who were thankfully keeping their hands to themselves. This, Harry suspected, was because Ulrich was watching them all like a hawk. He wasn't certain just how polite and respectful they would have been had the beta not been present.

“Potter,” Greyback grunted, and Harry's gaze snapped up at once.

“Yeah?” he asked while he eyed the alpha nervously.

“Come with me,” Greyback ordered, and Harry jumped up at once. Obeying Greyback so readily was a bit of a strange concept for Harry, but he had a feeling that Greyback would have no qualms about beating him down if he tried to disobey. He had no desire to be deliberately defiant, but the confusing mixture of old and new impressions of the alpha wolf made it more than a little confusing.

 

Without a word, Greyback led him over to the supply cave, and Harry tried to shake the edging nervousness that had settled in the pit of his stomach at being alone not just with a dominant, but a _powerful_ dominant. After what had happened with Bryce, Harry wasn't exactly keen to repeat the experience.

“I have been trying to decide on what duties to assign you that will cause me the least amount of bitching from you, and the lowest likelihood that you'll fuck it up,” Greyback growled, and Harry frowned as he felt his face burn. “From what I know of your history, you attract trouble like rotting meat attracts flies.”

“I don't _ask_ for it,” Harry replied rigidly, “it just sort of...happens.”

Greyback grunted, and eyed Harry for a long moment, and there seemed to be some sort of war going on there, as though he was reluctant to actually say whatever it was that he had decided on.

“Some of the younger pack members have expressed interest in learning... _wizard_ magic,” Greyback said, and let out a low growl as he wrinkled his nose with disgust, “I have heard that you were not completely inept at such things. Would be interested in teaching them?”

For a moment, Harry didn't say anything at all. His shock at the offer had completely struck him dumb, and he floundered as he tried to find his voice again. Of all the jobs he'd expected to be assigned, teaching a bunch of kids hadn't even made the list.

“I...but...don't you hate wizard magic?” Harry asked, and Greyback growled again.

“I do,” he snapped, “I detest it. It has been a constant threat to my pack for _years_.” his tone of voice raised in a rapid crescendo to something just short of a shout, and he was breathing hard like an angry bull as he forced himself to calm down. When he next spoke, his voice was much more even, but still shook with anger. “However, the last time I outright refused to allow the pups to learn it, a handful of them took off, apparently intent on going to that infernal wizard school of yours, and were killed by werewolf hunters. I'd rather that _not_ happen again, so I'm willing to bend my own rules to keep any more of them from trying something so stupid. Do you accept?”

“I—well, yes, of course, but I'll need supplies...books, wands for the kids, most of my old textbooks are gone,” Harry explained, and Greyback inclined his head once.

“Make a list of what you need, and I'll have someone escort you to Diagon Alley,” Greyback replied with a grunt, and already he looked as though he was regretting the decision.

“I will, and, er...thank you, Greyback...Alpha,” Harry said, and his jumbled words of gratitude seemed to stop Greyback short. He turned to look at him, and Harry quickly explained, “I was expecting something...well, something else. Not this.”

“You are pack,” Greyback replied simply, “I am not in the business of making my packmates miserable.”

Without another word, the alpha stalked off and left Harry standing alone in the cave.

 

Two days later, Harry found himself more than a little overwhelmed.

At the time, teaching a bunch of werewolf pups wizard magic didn't seem so complicated. That is, until Harry realized that well over thirty kids raging from ten to nineteen wanted to learn from Harry, and he was caught between feeling humbled that they regarded him so highly, and deeply embarrassed. Like many wizards, their reasons for wanting to learn from Harry weren't completely pure—they wanted to be close to the man who had taken down Red Moon. Many times, Harry wanted to remind them that it hadn't been him alone, but mentioning Remus was still difficult, and had thus resorted to simple, humble responses to their praise.

Ulrich continued to check in on him often. By the way the dominant's eyes would always linger on him in these moments, Harry had a feeling that he wasn't just checking up on him simply to make sure that he was all right, as he had kept insisting, but Harry had yet to try and call him out on it.

 

“That looks like fun,” a voice above Harry mused late one afternoon, and he glanced up to see Tavish standing over him and grinning widely. Harry looked back down to the list he'd been working on of supplies and possible subjects to teach, then back up to his friend and mirrored his grin.

“Yeah, loads,” Harry replied sarcastically, “who knew teaching a bunch of teenagers was so much bloody work.” Tavish plopped down next to him, and leant over to study the list he'd made.

“Transfiguration...Charms...Defence Against the Dark Arts...that's it?”

“Well, I figured that living out here they don't really need to learn the intricacies of History of Magic, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Divination, or Muggle Studies, and I'm nowhere good enough at Potions to feel confident teaching it,” Harry explained distractedly as he moved his self-inking quill over to the list of books he'd made, and scratched off _The Monster Book of Monsters_. He paused and pressed the quill into the parchment while looked up to the other werewolf. “To be honest, I'm surprised that Greyback even allowed this at all,” Harry said as his voice dropped to a whisper, “I mean, he hates humans, doesn't he?”

Tavish didn't answer straightaway, and instead his gaze dropped to his lap. He looked troubled, but thoughtful as he picked at a loose thread on his jeans. Harry waited for nearly a full minute before Tavish finally lifted his gaze and refocused his attention on Harry.

“Alpha has more reason than most to hate humans—wizards, especially,” he explained softly, “it's not really my place to tell the story, but he was turned when wizards still hunted werewolves for sport. He has seen a lot of horrible things in his time, and he will do anything—and I mean _anything_ to keep his pack safe.”

As Tavish spoke, a look of genuine adoration crossed his face, and he did not miss the brief flick of Tavish's gaze over to the alpha, who had been in deep conversation with Adina. Tavish did not explain it, but offered Harry a small smile, clapped him on the shoulder, and left him alone with his thoughts and work.

 

~*~

 

A week later, Harry found himself making ready to head back into the world he'd left behind.

He wasn't exactly keen to go back, and he was certain that it would have gotten out by now that he'd been turned. As a result, Harry was currently sitting in front of the lavatory mirror in the Sub House, his wand pointed at his face as he muttered under his breath, minutely adjusting his facial features, at least enough to not make him recognizable.

“Hey, Harry,” Tavish said as he let himself in, “are you ready to—wha?” the fellow sub stared at Harry, who now sported a full beard trimmed close to his skin, his eyes were dark blue, and his scar was missing.

“Call it insurance,” Harry explained with a snort, “I'd rather not get recognized, if I can help it.” Harry's faint grin fell when Tavish's expression darkened, and he frowned. “What?”

“Are you ashamed to be seen by wizards as a werewolf?” Tavish asked icily, “'cause walking around with Ulrich, they'll definitely be able to tell what you are, no matter wh—”

“—no!” Harry interrupted, eyes wide with horror as he realized how Tavish had perceived his actions. “ _God_ , no, it's not like that. It's just that in the wizarding world, I'm still _The Boy Who Lived_ , or _the Chosen One,_ or whatever the hell they're calling me now,” Harry explained, wrinkling his nose, “I get singled out _all_ the fucking time. I just...I want to be able to go to Diagon Alley without being accosted.” _And not be harassed for now being The Werewolf Who Lived, either,_ Harry thought sourly.

“Oh,” Tavish said with a small frown, and for a moment seemed to be at a loss for words in his embarrassment at his assumption. “Well, er, whenever you're ready, Ulrich is outside.”

Harry nodded his thanks, then the man made a quick getaway. He paid it no mind as turned back to the mirror, and spelled his hair more or less flat (though it didn't work nearly as well as Harry had hoped), then made his way outside.

As Tavish had said, Ulrich was waiting outside the Sub House, arms crossed across his chest as he leant against its wooden siding. He stared in confusion when Harry stepped outside, and quickly repeated his explanation to the older werewolf as he had with Tavish before he could jump to the wrong conclusion.

“You really get that much attention in public?” Ulrich asked, disbelief in his tone as he turned and led Harry through the houses and towards the territory's Apparition point.

“Unfortunately,” Harry replied with a grimace, “I can't walk into a bloody _bookshop_ without making the front page of the _Daily Prophet._ It's not something I really enjoy.” Harry bowed his head as they walked, and glared at his shoes.

“I think I could have worked that much out for myself,” Ulrich replied with a soft chuckle, and Harry's gaze whipped up to him, blinking in confusion. “You always look really uncomfortable when you're the centre of attention—it's kind of hard to miss.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that, and merely offered the dominant a weak smile.

 

The Apparition trip to Diagon Alley was uneventful, and Harry was counting his blessings for his disguise—as they crossed The Leaky Cauldron's threshold into the Alley, Harry caught sight of a discarded newspaper. The front page displayed a photograph of him and Remus from more than a year earlier, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, both of them laughing and chatting over enormous sundaes. The look he regarded Remus with in the photograph was one of love, and complete adoration. He could see Remus mirroring it back at him, and Harry felt almost as though he might be sick with anguish at the loss.

 _Happier days..._ Harry thought as his throat grew tight. He hardly gave the headline, _HARRY POTTER'S WEREWOLF LIFE_ more than a passing glance—his attention was fixed solely on the photograph, and his memories.

“Come on, Harry,” Ulrich said softly, drawing Harry out of his thoughts, and back to the present, “let's get this done.”

The edge of unease in Ulrich's voice made clear how he felt about being surrounded by so many wizards, and Harry nodded a little. He forced himself to walk past the rubbish bin where the paper lay, and resisted the sudden urge he had to snatch it up to preserve the photograph. Despite his best efforts over the last weeks, it was harder than he had expected to completely let go of what he had lost.

 

“Are you all right?” Ulrich asked as they walked, and Harry almost laughed at the ridiculous question.

“No, I'm not,” Harry replied, his voice thick with emotion, “but it'll pass.”

 


	4. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be May 19th. After next week I'll be out of school for the summer so I'll have a little more time to dedicate to my writing :)

Chapter Four – Distractions

 

Though his plan had been simple, in retrospect, Harry felt as though he should have known that walking into Diagon Alley, in disguise, with a dominant werewolf in tow would not be an easy endeavour. The trouble did not come from random passers-by, as Harry had assumed that it might—but from Ulrich himself.

It became clear quite early on that save for Ulrich's visit to Grimmauld Place, it had likely been a while since he'd been out in wizarding public. He crowded Harry badly, all knowledge of personal space apparently forgotten, and his hand remained planted firmly on Harry's shoulder as they wove through the alley. Any time that a pedestrian got too close, Harry could hear a soft, warning growl escape the beta.

“Knock it off,” Harry hissed each time that it happened, while he elbowed Ulric sharply, “we're not in the territory, they mean us no harm, now _calm the fuck down_.” 

Ulrich would quiet down, but he remained tense, and eyed Harry with a look of complete disbelief with every time he claimed that the wizards that surrounded them would not hurt them. He could understand the sentiment well enough, but he was almost as tense as Ulrich in being here, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to be patient with the beta's attitude.

By the time that they'd reached Flourish and Blotts, Harry was already deeply regretting the excursion, if nothing else, because of how exhausting keeping Ulrich in check was.

“Good afternoon, sirs!” Piped the shop assistant the moment Harry and Ulrich stepped inside, “how my I help—” he broke off as he took in the sight of Ulrich, and Harry could already feel him tensing up next to him.

“Oh, for the love of...” Harry grumbled, whipped out his wand and promptly shot a spray of water directly into the dominant's face, easily snapping him out of his defensive stance as he sputtered and cried out in surprise.

“What the hell was that for?” he demanded, water still dripping off his face as he glared at Harry.

“Knock it off with the protective shit, I mean it,” Harry said firmly, “go look at the magazines or something, this won't take long.” He pointed to the racks of magazines near the front doors, and Harry brazenly met the dominant's gaze, in an effort to show Ulrich that he wasn't screwing around.

“Tell Alpha about this and you'll regret it,” Ulrich muttered as his shoulders slumped and he shuffled towards the doors, and mopped his face with the hem of his shirt before he refocused his eyes on Harry as he leant against the wall, his arms crossed. Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the slightly bewildered shop assistant.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said while he drew a folded piece of parchment from his pocket, “I need these books, please.”

Harry handed the list over, and the assistant looked it over quickly. He looked up again, and offered Harry a small smile.

“Not a problem...Mr Potter,” he said, Harry blanched, and the assistant immediately chuckled. “Not to worry, not to worry, I have been selling you your schoolbooks since your first year. Even in disguise, I would know that it was you. I'll see to these books, I'll be back in a moment.”

The assistant bustled off, and Harry stepped over to the till to wait for him to return, which he did in under five minutes, carrying a towering stack of books that went well above his head, though miraculously, he made it over to the till without dropping any of them.

“Right,” he said as he rang up the books, “ _Gemino_ editions of The Standard Book of Spells, Grades one through seven, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and Advanced Transfiguration. Is that correct?”

“Yep, that's everything,” Harry replied, and pulled out his Gringotts key. The assistant nodded when he saw it, and pulled out what looked like some sort of strange magical equivalent of a Rolodex.

Harry pressed his key against the parchment, and held his thumb against it until it glowed faintly, certifying that it was really Harry making the purchase, and he let go of it so that the assistant could use the machine to charge the purchase to Harry's account. He handed back Harry's key along with the receipt, and Harry shrunk they books before he pocketed them.

“Thanks,” Harry said, and the assistant smiled.

“Any time, Mr Potter. Have yourself a good day.”

“You too,” Harry replied as he offered the man a nod of his head, and turned back to Ulrich, who was standing sulkily by the doors. It looked as though he hadn't moved a muscle.

“Is that it? Are we done?” he asked, a note of desperation in his voice, and it took a great effort for Harry to keep from rolling his eyes. He understood Ulrich's uneasiness, to a point, but he felt like this was more than a little over the top.

“Two more stops,” Harry replied and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when Ulrich let out an audible groan of frustration. “I swear, you're as bad as a boyfriend in a women's changing room...” Harry said, but too late realized how his words could have been interpreted, and he felt his neck grow warm.

“Don't be so flippant,” Ulrich replied sternly, apparently missing the double meaning of his words. “Red Moon may be gone, but there are many wizards out there who do not like our kind. Complacency is a fatal mistake, remember that.”

Harry wasn't certain it was as bad as Ulrich made it out to be, but offered up no more comments as he led the way to the Wizarding Supplies shop for quills, ink, and parchment, then with Ulrich behind him still tense and grumbling. Harry led him to a small, dusty shop that he knew well. He smiled at the single wand in the display window, remembering vividly the first time Hagrid had brought him here, and pushed the door open.

“Welcome to Ollivander's, makers of fine wands since 382 BC,” said a light, airy voice that definitely didn't belong to Ollivander. “Hello, Harry.”

“What's the point in having a disguise if everyone can tell that it's you?” Ulrich asked incredulously, and Harry snorted.

“I could look like the Queen of Shiva and Luna would still know that it's me,” Harry replied as he smiled at the blonde girl, and she beamed at him.

“It's your expression, Harry, I can always tell when it's you,” she replied in the same airy tone, “like I know that you're a werewolf now, and that man there is a little bit in love with you.”

Both Harry and Ulrich went red at that.

Of course, Harry had known for some time that Ulrich was interested in him—he had never been exactly subtle in his interest—but it was far too soon after Remus for Harry to even entertain jumping into a relationship with someone else. Harry coughed once to clear his throat, and instead of responding to her statement, he pressed on.

“Er, you see, the thing is, I've been sort of thrown into a teaching position with the, er, pack, and we need wands for the kids, but I'm pretty sure Greyback won't be comfortable with me inviting a witch or wizard to the territory—too much bad blood and all that. Do you have any suggestions, or maybe I should ask Ollivander?”

“Mr Ollivander is home today, it's just me in the shop. Poor thing, he's not well,” she said sadly, then leant in, “he's got Flittery Fiz-Bister Fairies in his hair, it's addling his mind something awful.”

“He's got _what_?” Ulrich whispered, and Harry did his best not to laugh.

“I'll explain later,” Harry replied, then turned his attention back to Luna. “So, any ideas?”

“Actually, I do. It's something Mr Ollivander was working on before he got ill. You see, sometimes children for some reason or another are unable to come to the shop to choose a wand themselves, and Mr Ollivander wanted to be able to make house calls to those people, but obviously he couldn't bring his whole inventory with him.” She paused, ducked under the desk, and pulled out two ordinary-looking leather suitcases. “He calls them the vanishing cases. Like those vanishing cabinets that caused so much trouble during my fifth year.”

“How do they work?” Harry asked, cocking his head a bit to the side as he looked at them. By her description he had a fairly good idea, but he wanted to be certain.

“Watch.” Luna opened the cases, both of which were lined with purple velvet, and picked up a quill. She placed it in one of the cases and snapped it shut, then a moment later it materialized again in the still-open case.

“Brilliant,” Harry breathed, and grinned at her, while she was still smiling dreamily at him. “I'd like to try it with the kids, if that's all right.”

“Oh of course, Harry!” she said brightly, “I'll need it back after, Mr Ollivander wouldn't be pleased if I lost one of his cases, but of course you can borrow it!”

 

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry said while he beamed at her, “you're a lifesaver.”

It took another forty-five minutes to organize a time to try it out, and the best way to communicate back and forth while they were using the cases. After Harry paid a fee for the cost of thirty-seven wands, he took one of the cases and Ollivander's special measuring tape, and bid Luna goodbye.

“I'll talk to you next week then,” Harry said as he turned towards the door, “and thanks.”

“Of course Harry,” she replied with a smile, “I'm always happy to help a friend.”

Harry beamed at her, and with a still-agitated Ulrich at his side, they stepped out of the shop, and much to the dominant's delight, they headed home.

 

~*~

 

In the week that followed, Harry found himself deeply grateful for the distraction of organizing the lessons for the werewolf pups. Those scant few moments when his mind was unoccupied, it would instantly stray back to Remus, and with that, Harry realized one singular, horrible thing.

 

Harry missed him.

 

Deeply.

 

On the nights when sleep did not readily come to him, he remembered everything of that first year—their first kiss, Remus's patience with him after  _the incident_ when they had no choice but to be together, the first time they had sex, Remus's tender care when he was healing from their kidnapping— _everything._

_How had it gone so wrong?_ Harry wondered miserably, and he would bury his head beneath his pillow to keep him housemates from hearing his soft, shuddering sobs.

Harry spent his waking hours of that week corresponding with Luna through the case, and they had finally made ready all that they needed to get the pups their wands.

 

That bright Friday afternoon, Harry found himself in the centre of the territory with the case set down in front of him, and a line of kids anxiously waiting to try out some of Ollivander's wands.

Harry felt mildly daunted by the line of hopefuls in front of him, and motioned for the first to come forward, a blonde girl with her curly hair pulled back in pigtails.

“Hi, Harry,” the girl said nervously, “I'm Gina, I'm twelve. Am I really going to get a wand today...really?” Her bright blue eyes shone excitedly, and Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“'Course. Now, hold still, I need to take your measurements for Miss Lovegood, all right?” Harry asked, and she nodded. It felt a little odd referring to Luna as _Miss Lovegood,_ but he tried to ignore the feeling while he flicked his wand and the special measuring tape began its work, measuring the lengths of her arms, the distance between her fingers, her height, around her head, and practically everywhere else.

Gina giggled as she watched its progression, then just as abruptly it stopped, and crumpled in a heap on the ground. A sheet of parchment detailing the measurements materialized before them, and Harry snatched it out of the air to add her name and age. “Are you left or right handed, Gina?” Harry asked belatedly, and she looked down at her hands, as though she was uncertain.

“I...don't know.”

“Well, which hand do you write with?” Harry asked patiently, and she shrugged. _Oh, shit._ Harry thought, then asked weakly, “ _can_ you write?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Okay,” Harry said with a heavy sigh as he raked his hand through his hair, then handed over his own wand to the girl, “try holding it in each hand, and tell me which is more comfortable for you.”

Gina accepted the wand and held it in her left hand, then her right, then back to her left. She did this several times, then finally held up his wand in her right hand.

“This one,” she said, and Harry offered her a small smile.

“You're right-handed, then,” he said, and made a note on the parchment. He then opened the case, placed the note in, and snapped it shut. “May I have my wand back, Gina?” he asked, and flushing a little, she handed it back to Harry.

As Gina handed back his wand, the case glowed a soft blue, and Harry opened it back up to find a stout wand and a note.

 

_Hawthorn and dragon heartstring, 5¾ inches. Good for charmwork._

 

“Here you go, Gina,” Harry said with an encouraging smile as he lifted the wand out and held the handle towards her, “hawthorn and dragon heartstring. Give it a wave.”

A little uncertainly, she accepted the wand from Harry and gave it a small wave. When nothing happened, Harry saw her face fall a little.

“Not to worry, Gina,” Harry said as he took it back and noted that the wand hadn't worked, before snapping it back into the case, “the wand chooses the wizard...er, witch, in this case. I tried _dozens_ of wands before I found one that suited me.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice soft and uncertain, and Harry nodded with a grin.

Another wand appeared in the case with yet another note.

 

_Larch and unicorn hair, 7½ inches, nice and bendy._

 

Harry drew it out, repeated the note to Gina, and offered her the wand's handle.

It took six more wands before Gina found her match, and she squealed with delight as a shower of green sparks shot out of the 8½-inch holly and dragon heartstring wand.

“Congratulations, Gina,” Harry said with a grin. “Now, don't fiddle with it too much, you don't want to hurt yourself. Promise me you'll wait until we start our lessons before you try anything on your own?”

“I promise,” she said, her tone a little breathless as she lurched forward and hugged Harry tightly. “Thank you, Harry.”

She let him go and darted off before Harry could properly respond, and the next pup stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear.

 

It took the better part of four hours to make it about halfway through the line of kids before Luna sent a note ahead saying that they needed to stop. The kids that were left let out agonized moans, and even with Harry's promise that they'd pick it up tomorrow didn't seem to placate them very much.

As they all headed off for the evening, Harry slumped back against the log he'd been sitting on with a heavy sigh.

“Great job, professor,” a voice above him said, and Harry looked up to see Ulrich standing there. “The pups are thrilled.”

“I think I got more than I bargained for,” Harry muttered as he straightened up a little. “How come so many of the kids can't read or write?”

“Most of the pups here are born werewolves, not turned ones,” Ulrich explained as he sat next to him, “there's not much call for it when you live out here. Some of the subs have tried to teach them, but until now most of them hadn't really been interested in learning the skill.”

“Well, I'm going to have my hands full, to say the least,” Harry replied, and picked up a small pebble off the ground, which he promptly chucked into the bonfire.

“Better to keep busy when you're...” Ulrich stopped himself short, given that the moment Harry figured out what he was going to say his face fell, his thoughts returning to Remus in a split-second. It felt very much like a hand was squeezing his heart, and Harry felt his throat grow tight. “Fuck, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

“—no, it's all right,” Harry interrupted, but winced at the croaky quality to his voice. “It hurts, but it's all right. I just wish I could get over him. I thought when the bond broke everything would go back to normal, but—” Harry's voice wavered and died as his eyes flooded with tears. “Fuck,” he said with a soft, forced laugh, and tilted his head up in an effort to keep the tears from falling.

“It's normal,” Ulrich replied gently, “when someone you care about betrays you, it's hard. Even if they think doing something is in the person's best interest, making decisions like that...well, you end up with messes like this.” The dominant hesitated for a half-second, then reached down and gave Harry's wrist a gentle squeeze. “If you want to talk or vent, I'm here. I want...I want to be your friend.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied weakly. “Everyone out here...you're like a big family. Everyone takes care of everyone else.” Harry's eyes strayed over to where Bryce was returning from a hunt with a handful of other dominants, each of them carrying a deer over their shoulders as though the carcasses weighed practically nothing. “Well, almost everyone,” he amended.

“Don't let Bryce get to you,” Ulrich said firmly, drawing Harry's attention back to him. “He had an old-fashioned view of the world, and thinks that it's his birthright to _take_ a sub to his bed, instead of treating him like a real person. Very few dominants actually agree with him.”

“Well, that's something, at least,” Harry replied, uncertain why he suddenly felt so uneasy. Talking with Ulrich was comfortable, and he felt just as at ease with him as he did with all the other submissives he had met so far. Considering all the other dominants (except perhaps Greyback) made him incredibly nervous, that was really saying something.

“I need to see to my duties, Harry,” Ulrich said, and reached out again to offer Harry's shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “If you need anything, don't hesitate to come talk to me, all right?”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry replied, forcing a small smile. Ulrich returned it, then stood and walked off. Harry followed his progression across the territory for a moment, but was jarred from it by a low, lewd whistle. Three seconds later, Tavish dropped down next to him on the log.

“Lucky you,” he jested, “having the beta of our fair pack all to yourself. I mean... _damn_.”

“I don't have anyone,” Harry replied with a soft snort, “he's just being nice.”

“Yeah, and next you'll tell me that Alpha invited Adina to his cabin last night to play _checkers_ ,” Tavish quipped with a snort. “He's got it bad for you, mate. Why don't you go for it?”

“It's too soon, I'm still in mourning,” Harry protested weakly, looking away from his friend to the bonfire with a small frown, “everything reminds me of... _him_. I thought if I was out here I'd be able to forget him quicker, but he...he's still all I think about. The second I'm not preoccupied with something, I remember him.”

“And what better way to distract yourself than with a warm body next to yours at night?” Tavish asked, and Harry snorted. “I mean it, Harry,” he said, his voice dropping the jocular tone, “wallowing like this isn't healthy, and Remus isn't worth it, not after all the shit he put you through. You deserve someone who will dote on you—who won't hurt you.”

Harry grunted, but didn't offer up a proper response.

 

~*~

 

With Luna's help, Harry managed to finish handing out wands to the rest of the kids the following afternoon. Unfortunately for them, he was unable to dive straight into teaching them magic, given that first he had to teach them to read and write, which was painfully dull for both Harry and his pupils.

The upside to it was that despite how tedious the work was, it kept his mind occupied, and he was able to almost forget about Remus and his own inner turmoil.

The fact that he hadn't followed Harry to the territory—or even tried to contact him—certainly helped, but Harry couldn't help but feel a little hurt at that at the same time, which was both confusing and frustrating at the same time. Not for the first time, he vehemently wished that he could just snap his fingers and get over him.

“These things take time, Harry,” Tavish said consolingly, after Harry had finished venting his frustration to his friend. They were sequestered away in the Sub House with the other subs to ride out the vicious thunderstorm that raged outside, but given that most of the females had clustered around Jade, all of them tittering excitedly about how her pregnancy was coming along, Harry and Tavish had been left in peace to talk amongst themselves. “You can't just...make it go poof,” he continued with a small wince, “you have to work through the pain.”

“I wish I _could_ ,” Harry muttered miserably, and picked at a loose splinter on his bedpost. “I'm just...I don't want to lo—to think about him anymore.”

Tavish smiled at him sadly, as though he could see right through Harry's quick emendation. He flushed scarlet, but thankfully, he seemed to understand that Harry wasn't overly keen to discuss it.

“Well,” Tavish said, “if it helps, I know of something that'll distract you...”

“Oh yeah? And what's that?” Harry asked with a note of sarcasm in his voice. _If he brings up Ulrich again I'll thump him,_ he thought while he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his friend, and he cracked a small, humourless half-smile.

“Your first moon is next week.”

 


	5. Fine Without You

Chapter Five – Fine Without You

 

In the days to come, Harry prepared himself to experience firsthand what he'd witnessed Remus go through every month for years, but it was far less unpleasant that Harry expected it to be. In point of fact, Harry found himself experiencing none of the same side-effects of the impending moon that he'd witnessed Remus experience, and he wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that he wasn't taking the wolfsbane potion. But quickly, Harry learnt that it was for another reason entirely.

“Doms are like...I don't know. Their forms are a lot bigger than ours, so they need to eat a lot in order to maintain the change,” Tavish explained as they sat huddled together at lunchtime the day preceding the full moon. The subs were acting and eating normally, but the dominants were another story entirely.

Hypersexed and constantly hungry, it was like watching half a dozen enormous, burly versions of Ron Weasley tramping about the territory. The unmated subs stuck even closer together than usual, given that the moment any one of them strayed too far from the group, a dominant was always quick to sweep in and stake a claim—whether they liked it or not. As a result, Greyback was darting about the territory like some sort of pinball, separating unwilling subs from over-enthusiastic dominants, and looked more and more frustrated with his entire pack as the day progressed.

Harry could feel Bryce's eyes follow him wherever he went, but it was a small mercy that he was the only dominant doing so. It seemed as though all the others couldn't even look at him, though Harry wasn't certain why. His thoughts on this were interrupted quite suddenly however when the scent of a dominant overwhelmed him, and two seconds later his vision was completely obscured by a large amount of frizzy brown hair.

Harry yelped in surprise as he tumbled off the log that he had been sitting on from the force of the embrace, his bowl of stew he'd been eating was upended, and he could distantly hear a voice say, “it's okay! It's fine, they're friends, relax,” though he could not tell to whom the voice belonged.

“Oh Harry, it's so good to see you!” Hermione cried tearfully, but clearly did not know her own strength, and seemed wholly unaware that she was crushing Harry's lungs.

“Hermione...can't...breathe...” he choked out, and with a soft gasp of surprise, she quickly released him.

“Oh, I'm sorry! Are you all right?” she asked as Harry sat up, breathing deeply, and he used his wand to clear away the mess of venison stew off their clothes.

“Fine, you know, enjoying the flow of air through my œsophagus,” he replied sarcastically, and she smiled apologetically at him.

“How's—” Harry began, but he was interrupted by the sound of Tavish pointedly clearing his throat. Harry turned and saw his new friend watching them with his arms crossed and a clear, _are you going to introduce me?_ look on his face. “Oh, sorry, Hermione, this is Tavish, Tavish, this is Hermione. She's one of my best friends.”

Hermione beamed at Harry, then turned to Tavish. Harry could see her nostrils flaring a little, and Harry knew that she could likely sense that Tavish was a sub. They shook hands, then Hermione stepped back a little, though she still stuck close to Harry. Harry doubted this had anything to do with her status as a dominant, and more to do with the fact that she was surrounded by dozens of new faces, and Harry was the only one that she really knew.

“I've been keeping an eye on Harry ever since he got here,” Tavish explained with a proud grin, “been making sure the doms keep their hands to themselves...with a little help from our resident Beta, of course.” He glanced over to where Ulrich had been standing with Greyback, and suddenly Harry felt very warm. He glared at Tavish, but the expression was met only with a broad grin.

“I'll bet,” Hermione replied with a snort.

 

After their awkward albeit enthusiastic reunion, Hermione pulled Harry away from the other subs to privately catch up, an action which was met with a flurry of confusion on all sides. Harry's new werewolf senses balked at being alone with a dominant, even if it _was_ Hermione, and the other subs seemed to be just as uneasy about this as he was. At the same time, Harry caught the sight of Ulrich out of the corner of his eye lurch forward as though he was going to intercept the pair, but Harry shook his head minutely, and he backed off, though Harry could see reluctance in every move that he made.

The pair moved away from the main hustle and bustle of the territory, and meandered around the edges as they began to chat idly.

“So, how is...Ron and, er, everyone?” Harry asked, his face flushing with embarrassment when Hermione eyed him knowingly. It was clear that by _everyone_ she knew that he meant Remus.

“Ron's fine. It's been a bit of a learning curve, this...turning. But I still love him, and he still loves me, so we're giving a go of it. We were careful around the half moon phase though...we didn't want a repeat of what you went through.” She regarded him apologetically, but Harry did not feel offended by her words. After everything she'd watched him and Remus go through, Harry couldn't exactly blame her for how she felt.

“Remus...we haven't been in contact with,” she continued, “Ron and I don't exactly have anything to say to him, and I think Ginny's reached out to him, but it's like he's dropped off the face of the earth, no one knows where he is.”

“Oh, I...see,” Harry replied awkwardly as they paused near and old oak, and Harry leant up against it as he tried to process what he was feeling. “And no one's tried to find him?”

“Not that I know of,” Hermione said with a small frown, “I mean, Ron's still too angry with him to want anything to do with him, and I'm still getting used to all these new senses, so I've been a little overwhelmed with everything...”

“—I'm sorry,” Harry cut in quickly, and he felt a knot of guilt settle in his gut. “If it wasn't for me, if you hadn't been there—”

“—don't start, Harry,” she said firmly, and Harry refocused his gaze on her, his eyes wide with surprise.

“What?”

“Don't start feeling guilty because this happened to me,” she said firmly, “it's not a death sentence, nor is it the end of the world. I'm still me, I'm...adjusting, and it's going to be okay, I know it.”

Hermione finished her statement with a reassuring smile at him, which Harry returned, albeit uncertainly. He couldn't quite share in her enthusiasm, given how things had been far from _okay_ for a very long time. However, he didn't feel like arguing the point, and merely nodded his head in agreement.

 

~*~

 

The pair whiled away the rest of the afternoon, sometimes alone, and other times with Tavish in tow. Harry could still feel the eyes of several pack members marking their movements, though he forced himself to never look back and see who it was—he wasn't certain he wanted to see those looks of disapproval. An unmated dominant wandering about with two unmated subs was not something that they were used to seeing, and Hermione's engagement to Ron really didn't register with them. Despite Harry's best efforts, he did catch the sight of a few pack members watching them, chief among them the alpha, who was often giving Tavish a disapproving look whenever he spotted the trio together.

At sundown, their little group was interrupted by Ulrich.

“I'm sorry to break this up,” he said as he approached, “but, Hermione, you'll need to join the other dominants for when you turn.” The words caused both Harry and Hermione to look up at Ulrich with confusion.

“Why?” Hermione asked at once.

“Your wolf is base animal instinct, and it is your first moon. Your new wolf mind will be overwhelmed and will feel compelled to dominate Harry and Tavish, and those encounters can sometimes get violent. It's for their safety as well as yours that you stick with the dominants, at least at first, all right?”

“Oh. A-all right,” she replied uncertainly, though Harry couldn't exactly blame her for her reluctance. The dominants had all clustered together on the south end of the pack territory, and she was easily the smallest person there—and the only female. She cast Harry one last nervous look, then crossed the space with Ulrich at her side. As Harry watched her go, he silently hoped that she'd be okay.

“C'mon, we better get going too,” Tavish said as he rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, “as unmated subs, we _really_ don't want to be out in the open like this when the change comes.”

Harry nodded woodenly and followed his friend's lead to the north side of the area. The unmated subs had all clustered together, as well as all of the children and adolescents in the pack. The mated pairs were scattered about the territory, cuddled together and talking quietly amongst themselves, very much like pairs of newlyweds.

The children were all chattering excitedly, chasing each other and playing roughly as they waited impatiently for the sun to dip below the horizon. The adults were mostly quiet, save for the few that were watching the children, and called out to them when they got too far away from the group.

Tavish tried to talk to Harry a few times, but Harry found himself far too nervous to carry on a normal conversation, and only offered his companion quick one or two-word answers. Eventually, Tavish gave up and sat at his side quietly while they watched the sun slowly sink into the west.

Only when the sun was little more than an incandescent glow on the horizon did everyone start shedding their clothes, and Adina went around to collect it and stacked in neat piles just outside the Sub House.

Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable about being starkers in front of a group of people he'd met barely a month before, and as casually as he could, he slipped behind a nearby tree so that the others couldn't see him. The action was met with a few titters from some of the older pack members, but no one teased him outright for it, for which he was grateful. He wasn't overly embarrassed by his prudishness, especially when he spotted Hermione across the territory doing the same thing. Her arms were crossed across herself and she was inching behind a tree, though surprisingly, the male dominants that surrounded her did not even pass her a fleeting glance.

Harry stood there, shivering a little in the autumn air, and had just begun to wonder how long he would have to stand there starkers before the change took him, when like a bell toll at midnight, it began.

Harry's stomach muscles began to suddenly spasm, and with a soft groan he bowed forward and his knees bit into the hard-packed ground. He clutched at his abdomen as he let out a low moan of pain, and his bones began to ache as though he was going through a painful growth spurt. His gums throbbed, his skin tingled, and his eyes burned as though he had been staring at the sun. His fingertips dug into the earth, and he gasped harshly as he tried to ride out the pain. However, with each wave of pain that passed, a new one was quick to take its place, and Harry found himself caught in a painful cycle of sensation. He let out another moan of pain, and prayed that it would end soon.

Harry's bones cracked and reset themselves; his skin stretched to accommodate his change in body size; fur sprouted from every follicle; his nose lowered to meet his mouth and both extended into a snout, and claws replaced his dull fingernails.

As quickly as it all started, it suddenly stopped.

Harry lay in the dirt, panting, his eyes clenched shut, and his body trembling from the shock of the change.

A soft nose nudged his shoulder lightly, and Harry's eyes flicked open. He could see more clearly in the dark, and his eyesight seemed to be muted somehow, and did not carry the same scope of colour that his human form did.

Harry looked up, and a shaggy black wolf stood at his side, whimpering a little in concern. The scent struck Harry as familiar, and companion. He pulled himself to his feet and immediately felt a wave of unease wash over him when he realized just how small he truly was. He stood a full head below his packmate, and his ears flattened against his head nervously. His companion whimpered, and he leant down to bump his jaw against Harry's in a gesture of affection and reassurance.

The move made Harry feel marginally calmer, and his tail began to wag faintly. The larger wolf yipped at Harry and gave him a gentle nudge, leading him out from behind the tree, and Harry was suddenly surrounded by wolves. Harry found himself both apprehensive of their presence and able to recognize them as pack in the same breath, but his small stature in comparison to the other adult wolves still made him nervous, and he stepped backward almost unconsciously, his lip curling a little. His companion whined and licked the ridge of his ear, and the gentle contact snapped Harry out of his nervous state. When he next looked around, he saw that most of the other subs had backed off a little, but maintained the protective circle around him as he tried to calm down.

An older female wolf, slate grey with clouded blue eyes approached him, and like the younger wolf, she bumped her jaw to his. Harry stepped forward to accept the gesture, and ever so slowly, he calmed down, and once more the others closed in on him to welcome him. This time, he did not panic, but accepted their welcome, his tail wagging minutely. The female gave Harry a moment to acclimate to the sights and smells around him before she pressed the length of her body against his and led him from the cluster of submissive wolves and towards the dominants.

Even at a distance, Harry felt positively minuscule compared to the dominant wolves. At the front of them stood the alpha, bear-like in size and radiating power like a rank odour. His head was held high, and even the other dominants that were near to or matched his size regarded him with respect and fear in equal measure.

The older female sub only stopped guiding his footsteps when Harry found himself directly in front of Greyback. He did not meet the alpha's eyes, and he remained stock still as Greyback stepped forward and proceeded to scent him. He let out a low growl of approval, then just as suddenly Harry felt an enormous paw press down on his back, right between his shoulder blades. He tensed for a moment, not understanding what alpha wanted of him, but then he understood—submit.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry dropped to the ground and exposed his belly.

Alpha once more growled his approval, and gently nudged Harry to his feet. Harry jumped up at once and moved to rejoin the other submissives, but was intercepted by an enormous tawny wolf, who closed the distance between them, and almost at once tried to mount him. Harry yelped in fright, scrabbling at the ground to escape the hold, just as a dark grey, almost black wolf shoved the other dominant hard, effectively separating Harry from him.

Harry wasted no time in rejoining the other subs, his chest heaving as he tried to calm down. They closed ranks around him, but due to his size Harry was unable to see what was happening, but he could clearly hear the snarls of the pair of dominants fighting.

He let out a low whine, stepping from foot to foot nervously, and his companion from earlier nudged him gently, and he guided Harry down to the river and away from the brawl. He turned and tried to go back and see what was happening, but his companion snapped at him, and herded him towards the river, while he ignored Harry's attempts to circle around him and go back to see what was happening. His companion eventually grew impatient with Harry's antics, and nudged him very hard—hard enough to cause him to stumble, and with his head bowed in frustration, he allowed himself to be guided the rest of the way to the riverside.

Harry lowered himself down to drink, and the cool water helped calm him from the stress of his encounter with the dominants. As he lifted his head, he froze when he caught sight of his reflection in the slow-moving water.

The lithe white wolf that he saw staring back at him was so small that he was closer in size to a coyote than even a natural wolf. Harry's ears flattened against his head; and his reflection did the same. He lowered his black nose to the water's surface, but the colour of his coat did not change. Even in this form, Harry was fully aware that such an unnatural colour of fur was bound to attract attention.

Ever so slowly, his companion coaxed him back to where rest of the pack had congregated. He was reluctant to go, afraid of what might happen when he crossed paths with the dominant wolves again, but when they finally arrived, he felt himself relax. Aside from a solitary dominant wolf that was circling the edges of the territory, all the other dominants were nowhere to be seen.

As they approached the others, the solitary dominant stepped towards them. Harry immediately backtracked, eyeing the dominant warily, but the brown wolf that stood there let out a low whine at his actions, and Harry pricked his ears, realizing by scent and sound that this wasn't a male dominant—it was a _female_ one.

Harry took a tentative step forward, and Harry felt a wave of familiarity rush over him. The dominant's tail began to wag slowly, and she yipped.

 

_Hermione._

 

They both rushed forward at the same time and nuzzled each other in the wolfish equivalent of a hug, their tails high as their circled each other and jumped forward in atypical puppy play, while his companion—who Harry now recognized by name as Tavish—intercepted them when Hermione got too rough.

After a few moments, Harry took a step back and looked around the territory, his mind clearing enough that names began to come to his mind slowly as a muddled mixture of human-like and wolfish thoughts passing through his head as he took in the sight of the other wolves in the area. He recognized the old grey wolf as Adina, and near to the bonfire (which was a strange, muted yellow to his wolf eyes) he recognized one of the pregnant wolves—a black one with flecks of white through her fur—as Jade.

Tavish approached him again and nudged Harry's cheek with his muzzle, and immediately Harry felt himself relax. Harry yipped once, and immediately a number of the tumbling pups rushed over to him, jumping up to nip at his ears and headbutt his rump, clearly trying to get him to play with them.

Harry nipped at the one closest to him, a russet pup that was about the same size as a large cat. With an excited cry he took off, and immediately Harry gave chase.

Some of the other subs joined in on the play with the pups, and after an hour or so, the dominants returned, dragging a pair of stags with them.

The subs all approached the dominants' kills, and Harry felt his mouth water at the scent of the fresh meat that permeated the air. He lurched towards them, but Hermione bit into the scruff of his neck to hold him back. At first, Harry was confused, but as he watched the alpha approach the deer first, he understood that they needed to wait for their leader to have his fill before anyone else was allowed to eat.

Greyback paused before the carcasses and looked towards the cluster of subs and let out a soft huff. Both Tavish and Adina broke away from the rest of them and approached their alpha, and moved to stand on either side of him. Harry's wolf mind knew immediately that these two were his breeding partner and his paramour, and as the two highest-ranking subs in the pack, they, too, were allowed to eat first—with their alpha. Harry cocked his head as he watched the scene play out, and felt as though he should be surprised by their presence at the alpha's side—Tavish, in particular—but in his wolf state, he was unruffled by this turn of events, and merely watched it play out in silence.

They tore into the flesh of the carcasses and began to eat, and Harry stepped from paw to paw impatiently. His belly rumbled as the smell of fresh blood rent the air, and frequently Hermione nipped at his scruff or snapped at him as though to remind him that despite his own hunger, he needed to wait.

It felt like they had waited a very long time before the three wolves had at last eaten their fill and stepped back. Harry moved to rush forward with the others, but being so small he was shunted out of the way quickly, and when he tried to wiggle in between the two larger submissives that had butted in front of him, they whipped around, muzzles bloody, and snapped at him with a warning snarl.

Ears flat against his head he let out a soft whimper, and began to circle the carcasses, looking for an opening, but aside from the Omega, a soft grey dominant who was lying down and patiently waiting his turn, Harry was the only one being left out of the meal.

Harry's distress began to mount as he took a few steps back and sat down, but continued to whine as he looked on hungrily at the stags that were very efficiently being stripped of their flesh. Harry started slightly when a sudden large shadow loomed over him; his gaze jerked up, and saw a dusky grey dominant, one almost as large as Alpha, standing over him. He recognized him immediately as Ulrich, and noted that he seemed to be carrying something in his mouth. Harry cocked his head to the side curiously as the dominant bowed forward and dropped something at his feet.

Startled, Harry looked down to see two kidneys and almost a full liver resting in front of him. Harry looked back up in confusion, and Ulrich huffed, nudging Harry gently in clear encouragement. He bowed forward, and quickly snapped up the offal, then licking his chops, he arched up and nudged Ulrich, a move of gratitude for the meal. Ulrich's tail wagged slowly, and Harry felt his stress begin to melt away.

Slowly, the other wolves began to step back from the carcasses, now little more than a pair of skeletons, and the omega stepped forward, tail between his legs as he began to pick through the bones, looking for discarded bits of meat or gristle.

Bellies full, most of the wolves lay down to rest, while others began to seek out what their bodies next called to them for. The dominants sidled up to the unmated subs or their own partners, and while some bowed their bodies forward and accepted them, others yipped and snarled, trying to force the larger wolves away from them. Most of the dominants accepted the refusals, but the pushier ones were quickly intercepted by the alpha, his lips curled back in warning for the dominant daring to try and force themselves onto an unwilling sub.

The dominant from earlier, which Harry now recognized as Bryce, began to approach Harry, and he instinctively moved closer to Ulrich, wholly unaware of how such an action might be interpreted. On his behalf, Ulrich growled in warning, and the other wolf faltered, clearly uncertain whether or not he wanted to challenge Ulrich again. After a brief moment of hesitation, the other werewolf relented, and stalked off with his head bowed. Ulrich shunted Harry away from the others with gentle taps of his muzzle against his hindquarters until they were a little ways away from the rest of the group. Harry lay down, and Ulrich lay more or less on top of him like some sort of large, furry blanket. He tensed, but the beta did nothing more an shield him with his much larger body from predators and the other dominants of the pack.

Harry curled into Ulrich's warmth and fell asleep quickly, completely worn out from the evening's events. Ulrich licked at his ears and stayed awake a while longer, his lip curling at any dominant who got too close to them.

Harry slept away the rest of the night in peace, wholly unaware of the significance of his acceptance of Ulrich's advances, nor what it would mean when he woke again with his human mind in full control again.

For the moment however, Harry felt something that had been in short supply for him these last few months: He felt protected, and safe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this seems like a setup to a repeat of what had happened to Harry with Remus in book one, but I'm just letting you guys know now that it's not what you think, I promise. Next update will be 2 June, so I'll see you all then, and I hope you guys enjoyed this latest update! :)


	6. Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Starting with this update, I can finally safely go up to weekly updates! Yaaaay! That being said, the next update will be June 9th :)

Chapter Six – Try

 

Harry woke the following morning curled up on the cool, dewy grass, but despite the outside chill of the autumn air, he found himself almost stiflingly warm.

A large body was covering his own; Harry's cheek was pressed fast against a broad chest, and he could feel the long locks of the man's hair tickling his shoulder. The skin was tacky from sweat but not unclean, and the wiry chest hairs felt soft under his cheek. A thick arm was wrapped around his waist, and it was a warm, welcome weight against his bare abdomen, where dimly Harry felt mildly perplexed as to why he didn't feel _more_ alarmed by this—he was more or less trapped under a huge, naked, dominant werewolf, but Harry did not feel afraid, or even marginally unnerved, which was a surprise. The scent that enveloped Harry spoke to him of power, but also of safety. Whoever it was that held him meant him no harm—Harry wasn't certain exactly _how_ he was so sure of this, but he knew that it was true regardless.

As Harry lay there being held like an overlarge teddy bear, he thought back to the night before, and tried to remember what had happened, and what may have happened to lead to his current situation. Unfortunately, his memory was a fuzzy mess of scent and sensation, and he couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Harry furrowed his brow as he tried to work through it, but this he succeeded in making his head hurt, instead of helping him remember.

A soft groan sounded from somewhere above him, and his companion began to stir. A large, callused hand stroked along Harry's abdomen in a gentle caress, and the rumbling growl of approval sounded almost like a purr to Harry. The sound of it made Harry's throat tighten, and his thoughts were thrown immediately back to Remus.

 

_Remus reacted on instinct and held onto him tightly, while a low growl escaped him as he reached down to cup Harry's buttocks in his large hands. Harry squirmed with delight, a small moan escaping him as their kiss became more feverish, their lips parting and tongues tangling together..._

 

Harry's breath hitched and tears sprung to his eyes before he could stop them.

“Harry?” Ulrich's groggy voice sounded from above him, and his arms tightened around the sub. “Are you all right?”

“F-fine,” Harry replied in a hoarse whisper, “I'm sorry, you just...reminded me.”

Ulrich growled again, but it was clearly in distress and the desire to console Harry, and not one of anger or irritation. He pulled Harry a little closer and propped his chin against the top of his head. Harry could hear other pack members around them beginning to stir, and he could smell more dominants close by. He guessed that this particular embrace as as much designed to console him as it was a display of claim, but he couldn't work out how he felt about that.

“Oh,” Ulrich mumbled in an uncharacteristically self-conscious tone of voice, and he squeezed Harry gently, “sorry.”

“It's all right,” Harry said, “I mean...as far as Hermione is concerned, it's _normal_.” Harry wrinkled his nose at the concept—he _really_ didn't want to think of Remus, and the concept that it was something of an inevitability grated on him.

“What do you remember of last night, Harry?” Ulrich asked suddenly, and Harry relaxed at the subject change, grateful that Ulrich did not seem to want to discuss his reaction or Remus any further. His hand moved to rub Harry's back gently, and he tried to ignore the influx of warring thoughts in his mind, of how at peace and safe Ulrich made him feel, and the internal cry of negation that proclaimed that it was far too soon after Remus to be this close with someone. He struggled to ignore it, and focused instead on trying to answer the question that had been put to him.

“Not much,” Harry replied at last, “just sort of...feelings, not real memories. Pain, fear, distress, then...safety. Not joy exactly, but a sense of peace, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Ulrich said, and nodded his head a little, “in time, the memories will come to you more easily.” His hand paused in the centre of Harry's back, and the rough palm pressed into his spine as he spoke, “last night...my wolf claimed you as a mate, and you accepted,” he explained, his tone halting and uncertain. At the words, _mating bond_ , Harry felt his heart clench.

“I'm certain it'll come as no surprise to you that I've...desired you for quite a while,” Ulrich continued, his tone uncertain, “without my human conscience to stop me, my wolf sought you out last night, and you accepted my claim of you.” He paused, his hand moving to rest on Harry's hip before he resumed his explanation, “this isn't like the human-werewolf mating bonds you've been...er, _exposed_ to before. It's not intertwined with magic, and it isn't some sort of binding, irreversible...thing. If you don't feel ready, or if you're not interested, I'll back off and we can pretend that this never happened. But it's very likely that I'll seek you out at the next moon, too.”

Harry moved to sit up, and for a moment it seemed as though Ulrich was reluctant to let him go, but he relented almost at once, and Harry pulled himself up with a soft groan. He felt weary, as though he hadn't slept, but nowhere near the bone-deep exhaustion that he had seen Remus go through at every moon. What Ulrich had told him didn't come as a shock; he supposed that on some level, he was aware of the claim—and, of course, waking up with him in something of of a lover's embrace was a dead giveaway.

Harry regarded the man that sat next to him. _Any passerby on the street would probably see him and feel kind of unnerved—he was so big and strong,_ he thought, _he's built like a warrior, he's the kind of man that looks like he could kill you with his pinkie, but there was also a kindness in those dark eyes of his..._

In many ways, Ulrich reminded Harry of Hagrid, for despite his size and fearsome strength, at his core he was almost impossibly kind. However, The prospect of being thrown into a relationship with someone whom he'd only properly known for a month (the few weeks they'd met prior to that notwithstanding) was somewhat daunting. Harry wondered if he was truly ready to try and move on from Remus as he looked up at Ulrich, and took a steadying breath as he struggled to organize his thoughts into some sort of order.

“I don't dislike you, Ulrich,” Harry began while he reached up to rake his fingers through his hair, and he glanced away from the dominant when he caught the wounded puppy look that had begun to settle in his eyes. “I just...I don't want to string you along. I'm still getting over...I just don't want to hurt you by rushing into something.”

“Sometimes seeing someone new helps the healing process, instead of hindering it,” Ulrich pointed out while he reached forward to gently take Harry's hands in his own. It startled him just how little his hands looked in Ulrich's, and he was so caught up in the sight of his hands being held by someone else (someone who wasn't Remus) that it took him a moment to find his voice again.

“That's what Tavish said,” Harry muttered, and Ulrich's mouth twitched into a small smirk. He did not offer up an answer to Harry's comment, but instead leant in and brushed his lips against Harry's cheekbone. The small show of affection caused Harry's face to grow very warm, and the corners of Ulrich's mouth twitched as though he was struggling to keep from smiling.

“Think on it, Harry,” he said softly, “whatever you decide, there's no pressure.”

Without another word, Ulrich stood and strode off. Harry's eyes followed his progression, his gaze dropping almost at once to his pert, muscular arse(among other attributes), and he felt his face flame once more in embarrassment. Keen to get the image of Naked Ulrich of his mind, he scrambled to his feet and hurried to the Sub House for a wash and some clothes.

 

~*~

 

At breakfast, Harry caught sight of Hermione and Tavish sitting together and chatting amiably, and both his new and old friend beamed at him. Tavish added a suggestive wink to the look he gave to Harry; he quickly turned away when he felt his face turn red, and hurried over to the men and women that were preparing the food, and accepted a plate of spit-roasted meat and glazed apples from them.

Harry picked his way through the crowd, they all appearing worn out from their activities the night before, but overall in good spirits. He still gave the dominants a wide berth as he headed over to his friends, given that many of them were eyeing Harry as though _he_ were on the breakfast menu.

“Well, it looked like _someone_ had fun last night,” Tavish teased, when Harry reached them, and he blinked in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean Ulrich following you around like a lost puppy, and making sure none of the other dominants laid a hand—or paw, rather—on you, and...what, you don't remember?”

Harry shook his head. He looked over at Hermione, who looked a little more worn out than he felt, and she smiled softly as he sat down next to her. He remembered vaguely that transformations were supposed to be harder on the dominants than the submissives, but despite her fatigue, she seemed to be her usual cheerful self as she and reached over to squeeze Harry's forearm affectionately. Harry felt his new werewolf instincts once more balk at the touch of a supposedly unknown dominant; it seemed stronger than it had been the day before, and Harry wondered if that had something to do with how he had woken up with Ulrich. Shaking his head minutely to rid himself of the thoughts, he refocused his attention on Hermione as she began to speak.

“Don't feel bad,” she said consolingly, “I don't really remember much either. More like...feelings? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, that's how it was for me too,” Harry replied as he speared a piece of apple with his fork, and Tavish nodded his head at the pair.

“When your wolf mind and your human mind find a balance, you'll start remembering more bits,” Tavish filled in helpfully with a small, reassuring smile, “sometimes if your wolf is particularly powerful, either physically or magically, you remember stuff right away, but that's not really the norm.”

“I think that's the first time ever that Harry hasn't been singled out for being special,” Hermione teased, and Harry snorted.

“You're not wrong on that one,” Harry replied, as Hermione giggled, but Tavish did not join in on the light banter, and instead offered Harry a small half-smile.

“I dunno about that...” Tavish said, and paused as regarded Harry oddly, “your wolf form was _tiny_.”

“Is that significant?” Hermione asked, and cocked her head to the side curiously, “I mean...Harry's not exactly that big normally...”

“Oi, it's bad enough that Ron calls me a midget,” Harry protested, “don't you start too.”

“That's not what I mean!” Hermione replied with another giggle, “I just mean, like, since you're not all that tall, it would make sense that your wolf form would mirror that...wouldn't it?”

“Not necessarily,” Tavish said thickly around a mouthful of food, the action met with an exchanged look between Harry and Hermione. Based on the expression he saw in her eyes, likely she, too, was thinking of Ron. “You were little and white, a lot of our legends say that a wolf like that is a sign of good fortune, and they bring luck to the pack and any mate that they choose.”

“Which means—let me guess—that the dominants were all over me last night?” Harry asked dully, and Tavish's mouth twitched into a small grin.

“Bryce _did_ try to claim you the second Alpha accepted you as Pack,” Tavish said, “but Ulrich swept in like a knight in shining armour or something and rescued you. It was the most testosterone-fuelled display of _dibs_ I've ever seen.”

“Hm,” Harry intoned as his eyes strayed from his friends and over to Ulrich. He was sitting with Greyback and talking with him softly, their heads bowed together and their expressions deeply serious. Apparently sensing Harry's gaze on him, Ulrich glanced up and caught the submissive's eye, and offered him a small wink.

Flushing deeply, Harry quickly refocused his attention on his friends.

“Well, I'm glad there's someone around to keep you out of trouble when I'm not around,” Hermione teased, while she looked at him significantly, clearly having caught the exchange between him and the beta. Harry rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore Tavish's knowing grin while he responded to Hermione.

“Bit keen to marry me off, aren't you?” he asked while he arched a brow, and Hermione swatted his arm lightly. Though she seemed to have intended it as no more than a light tap, it appeared as though she still did not know her own strength, and the appendage jerked forward slightly from the slap.

“Oh, it's not like that and you know it, Harry,” she replied, “you deserve someone who will worship the ground you walk on, not leave when you need him most. I just think someone like Ulrich would be good for you, that's all.”

“It still feels too soon, though,” Harry mumbled while he stabbed sullenly at another piece of apple. “I just...I thought coming out here would _help_ me get over Remus faster, but _everything_ reminds me of him.”

“Of course it does,” Hermione said, her tone gentle and consoling, “Harry, you shared your life with him. You spent a lot of your time with him—you two did _everything_ together. Of course it will be some time before even _breathing_ won't bring Remus to mind. That's why I think someone new, someone who _clearly_ cares about you might be a good step towards getting over him.”

Harry stuffed a forkful of cooked meat and apple into his mouth to avoid answering, but his friends did not appear annoyed by his lack of answer, for which he was grateful.

 

Hermione spent most of the day in the territory with Harry and Tavish to recover from the aftereffects of her first full moon as a werewolf. Many of the subs still seemed to be uncomfortable with an apparently unmated dominant in their midst, despite Hermione's continued insistence that she was engaged. The human concept of a pair bond did not seem to be enough for most of them however, and thus Harry and Tavish kept Hermione company well away from the other subs of the pack.

Around midday, Greyback sauntered over to them, and without even so much as a greeting to Harry ot Hermione, he crouched down to grip Tavish's shoulder and murmured something into his ear. He spoke softly enough that even Harry's heightened sense of hearing could not catch it, but the way the older man nipped at Tavish's earlobe, paired with the lewd smirk that crossed the submissive's face made it clear what Greyback was likely saying to him. Tavish did not even bother to bid Harry or Hermione goodbye as he jumped to his feet to hurry off with his alpha.

“Well...okay then,” Harry said, blinking bemusedly as he watched the pair disappear in the cluster of cabins at the opposite end of the territory.

“It's not uncommon for an alpha werewolf to claim multiple mates,” Hermione replied reasonably, answering the question that Harry never asked.

“How d'you know about Adina?” Harry asked suddenly, blinking in confusion as he racked his brain and tried to recall whether or not she had been present when he'd first heard about Adina sneaking off with Greyback.

“I could _smell_ it,” she replied as she wrinkled her nose, “it's a bit weird, they're so...so... _unapologetic_ with their sex practises out here.”

“I don't hear much of that,” Harry said, his stomach twisting with unease as he spoke, “I mean, with the subs, it's mostly women, so...”

“Women can sleep around, too,” Hermione cut in icily, “we're no different from men in that regard.”

“O-okay?” Harry asked, blinking at her with confusion, uncertain what he'd said that had upset her.

“I'm sorry,” she said almost at once with a soft sigh, and she raked her fingers through her hair, “I'm just a bit overwhelmed with everything, and I wish Ron was here.”

At the mention of Ron, Harry realized suddenly with a funny sort of jolt that he hadn't seen his best mate in over a month.

“How's he dealing with all this, anyway?” Harry asked, and Hermione bowed her head a little. It was almost a full minute before she spoke again.

“I think he's taking it harder than he's letting on,” Hermione replied softly, a hand resting against her abdomen as she spoke, as a pained expression suddenly crossed her face. Harry's stomach turned over uneasily at the action, it sparking as a sudden memory in his mind.

 

“ _...only female subs can get pregnant, however; female dominants are barren...”_

 

If Hermione's body language was any indication, Harry guessed that she had discovered what Greyback had told him exactly one month earlier.

“I mean,” she continued, her voice uncharacteristically soft and small, “I think he's trying to do the brave face thing for me, but...”

“Hermione?” Harry prompted gently, “you okay?”

Hermione looked back up, and Harry saw that her eyes were flooded with tears. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, uncertain whether to spare her the pain of saying it by letting her know that he already knew, or let her get there in her own time. Before he could make a decision, Hermione began to speak again.

“A-After you left I did some research, and after I found out that I was a dominant werewolf, I read that they can't—” she broke off with a small sob, and quickly she reached up to wipe her eyes on the wrist cuff of her jumper as she continued in the same soft tone, “we can't have children. Ever since Ron and I got together, I thought about not just, y'know, _us_ , but about having a couple of kids with him, my own little family...” a tear made it past her efforts to stem the flow, and streaked her cheek.

“Hermione...” Harry found himself uncertain what he could say to console her, just as she threw herself at him in a bone-crushing hug. Harry held her and rubbed her back while she cried, but he couldn't help the twist of guilt that settled in the pit of his stomach—this was _his_ fault. If she hadn't gotten between him and Greyback, none of this would be happening to her.

“You could always adopt,” he said awkwardly as he continued to rub her back, “or—surrogacy, I know it's awful, Hermione, but you're not, y'know, less of a person because you can't...do that.”

“Oh, I know all of that, Harry,” she said with a weak laugh as she sat back up, her eyes still very red, “I just...I really wanted it. Ron and I are looking for a Healer and Potioneer that would be willing to try to find a fertility potion that would work for me, but so far...” she trailed off and shook her head.

“You'll work it out, one way or another,” Harry said encouragingly, and pulled her into another hug. “You're the cleverest witch—cleverest _werewolf_ our age,” he amended, and she laughed again, the sound a little stronger this time, “I know you'll come up with something.”

“I love you, Harry,” she said, and he squeezed her gently.

“I love you too, Hermione.”

 

~*~

 

Tavish returned two hours later, his hair mussed, a dark purple mark on the hollow of his throat, and his gait was distinctly bow-legged. Greyback, on the other hand, appeared wholly unaffected by his time with the sub, though Harry thought that he seemed to be in a better mood than he had been earlier.

“Ah,” Tavish sighed luxuriously as he rejoined Harry and Hermione, “nothing like a powerful dominant plowing into your arse with his ten-inch battering ram until you completely lose your voice from your screams of ecstasy to make you—”

“—you can shut up _any_ time you like,” Harry interrupted crossly, but Tavish merely offered his companion a lascivious grin.

“You're such a prude, Harry,” Tavish replied simply, “I'm talking here about the beautiful, natural act of two bodies coming together, or, you know, _cumming_ together—”

“I'm not a prude,” Harry cut across him quickly in an effort to shut him up, “I would just rather not know those intimate details about our resident alpha, thank you very much.”

“Like I said— _prude,_ ” Tavish replied smoothly; Harry rolled his eyes as he changed the subject, and Tavish shrugged a little as he followed Harry's lead, instead of teasing him further, for which Harry was deeply grateful.

 

The rest of the day passed peacefully enough for the trio, both Harry and Tavish having been let off their usual Pack duties in order to recuperate from the moon. At dinner, once more Harry, Hermione, and Tavish found themselves off to one side, away from the other subs, most of whom still regarded Hermione with a note of unease, but if Hermione herself was at all upset by this treatment, she didn't let on.

“I have a question,” Hermione said while she picked at her stew and regarded the pair of male subs across from her, she sounding very much like the old Hermione that Harry had always known and loved. He smiled a little as he watched her address Tavish, and Tavish, in turn, lifted his gaze to meet hers.

“Yeah?” Tavish asked, his voice a little muffled from the spoon protruding out of his mouth.

“If you're with...well, _you know_ ,” she nodded towards Greyback, “how come you live with Harry in the Sub House? I thought it was only for unmated subs.”

“It's a safety precaution, same with Adina,” Tavish replied after he pulled out the spoon from between his lips, and dunked it into his empty bowl. “If we're ever under siege by rogues, or wizards, or something, the first thing that they're likely to do is go after is the alpha's mate or mates to bring him to heel. If we maintain the image that we're unmated subs, we won't be targeted as easily by the likes of them. Other dominants might see us as fair game because of that, but...no one's stupid enough to try taking Alpha's subs from him.”

Tavish grinned as he finished his statement, his expression softening a little as his eyes flitted to Greyback, who was sitting with Ulrich on his left, and Adina on his right. Harry couldn't quite call the expression that he saw on the young man's face _love_ , but it seemed quite close. What was clear was how much Tavish prided himself in being one of the objects of the alpha's affections, though privately, Harry couldn't quite wrap his head around the concept of someone willingly sharing their partner with someone else. As he refocused his attention on his companions, he felt his face flame with embarrassment as he felt Ulrich's eyes on him. Caught between embarrassment and a strange kind of pride at being regarded in such a way, he kept his eyes on his friends in an effort to keep from overthinking his situation with the beta, for which he had yet to come to a decision on.

“That makes sense,” Hermione said reasonably while she punctuated her words with a spoonful of food, “but what about spies in the pack? Like, if someone here told the rogues or whomever who Alpha's mates were, wouldn't that cause problems anyway?”

“It could,” Tavish agreed, “but we're living in times of peace, now that the so-called _Dark Lord_ and Red Moon are no more, we're not as worried about something like that happening. Plus, the territory's warding is very strong. It would take someone with a ridiculous amount of power to actually break through our borders.”

 

Harry listened to the pair chatter in thoughtful silence, not wholly paying attention to the conversation as he ate. So soon after his and Hermione's first moon, she now seemed quite keen to learn everything that she could about pack life, which didn't surprise Harry in the least, though he was mildly unnerved how quickly she seemed to have grown accustomed to referring to Greyback as _Alpha._ Her attitude was a far cry from how she had been in school; there, she had been determined to impose her will on others when it came to different belief systems she may not have wholly agreed with, but here she seemed quite keen to be respectful of the customs and practises of the pack.

Harry wondered vaguely if that was because pack life included her, and she wasn't separated from it by species like she had been with her _spew_ efforts.

His eyes strayed once more from his two friends to the clusters of werewolves that dotted the territory. Most of them had congregated near the bonfire, while others had broken off in small clusters to talk quietly amongst themselves. Greyback and Adina had already disappeared, their empty bowls left behind on the log bench to be picked up by the pack's cooks. Ulrich was sitting alone, his eyes scanning the crowd very much like an on-duty lifeguard, and as his gaze flicked towards Harry, their eyes met and Harry felt as though he had become a proverbial deer in headlights. He froze under the dominant's gaze, Ulrich winked at him, and Harry felt colour once more rise in his cheeks as he quickly looked away and tried to focus on Tavish and Hermione's conversation. With Ulrich's eyes routinely shifting over to him however, Harry found it incredibly difficult to concentrate.

 

It was another hour before Hermione proclaimed that she needed to get home, now that the moon was over and she felt that enough of her strength had returned that she could safely Apparate.

“You need to come visit with me and Ron soon,” Hermione said earnestly as Harry escorted her to the edge of the territory, and she pulled him into a tight hug. “I don't want our friendship to fall apart because of all this.”

“Me either,” Harry replied as he tightened his hold on her, “no matter what, I don't want to lose you or Ron.”

“Oh Harry, you won't,” Hermione said with a weak, teary voice, “family doesn't end in blood, you know that. We'll always be there for you—to get you out of one mess or another.”

Harry laughed weakly, and they finally broke their hug to grin at each other.

“Send me an owl, and I'll see about visiting you guys soon,” Harry said, and she lurched forward to hug him again, then reluctantly let go so that she could Disapparate, but not before offering him one last valedictory smile, and she disappeared with a sharp _crack_.

Harry stared at the empty space for a long moment as he reflected on everything that had happened to him over the last month. It had gone by so quickly that in many ways it felt more like a handful of days at most rather than a full month, and Harry found himself somewhat dizzy at just how easy it had been to fall into a routine here—once he'd grown accustomed to everything, that is.

The thing that shocked him the most however, was the fact that over the last sixteen hours, he hadn't thought about Remus once.

The realization did not have the effect that Harry had hoped for, as the moment the thought crossed his mind, Remus's warm, smiling face materialized in his mind's eye. Hissing a curse, frustrated at himself for how easily the older man had reasserted himself in Harry's thoughts, Harry spun on his heel and stormed back towards the Sub House.

 

~*~

 

The following day, Harry was grateful that he had his lessons to keep his mind off things. Teaching a bunch of impatient teens and preteens how to read and write demanded his full attention to keep them on task, especially when they were all dying to start learning actual spells. Only Harry's warning that they would learn _nothing_ until they had gotten this down seemed to keep them from skiving off their work, which was a small mercy—that and the fact that they did not have access to any Skiving Snackboxes, for which Harry was deeply grateful.

His own attention span was put to the test as well that day by the presence of Ulrich, who seemed keen to shadow him, but from a somewhat respectful distance. However, no matter how far away the man was, Harry picked up his scent with little difficulty, and he couldn't decide whether he was annoyed or pleased by the dominant's presence—if nothing else, it it least encouraged Bryce to keep his hands to himself.

 

Around midday, while Harry was wrestling his way through a stack of worksheets that he needed to correct, a soft grey owl fluttered into the territory and landed on Harry's shoulder.

A little perplexed, given that the owl was clearly _not_ Pig with a letter from Hermione, he untied the scroll and the owl waited patiently while he unrolled it, and his eyebrows shot up in mild surprise as he recognized the neat, flowing handwriting upon the narrow piece of parchment.

 

_Harry,_

_I was wondering if you wanted to get together soon to catch up, and I want to see how you're doing. I dunno if you're ready to visit in a place like Diagon Alley or the Burrow, so maybe we could have a walk through the forest near your pack?_

_Let me know,_

_Ginny_

 

_I guess as long as I don't let Ginny into the territory and we stick to places that the Rogues haven't been hanging around, it'll be no problem..._ Harry thought, and quickly sent the owl back with a note on which days would be best for him before he turned back to the stack of parchment, and resumed correcting it.

“Well, that looks like fun,” a sudden voice above him mused, and Harry glanced up to see Ulrich towering over him. Normally, such an action from a dominant would have made Harry extremely nervous, but for some strange reason with Ulrich, he never felt any of his usual anxiety. Harry could not decide whether or not this was a good thing, especially considering his recent advances on Harry. He still had yet to make a decision on that front, but Ulrich, to his credit, had not pressed him for an answer—beyond hanging around him a little more than usual, anyway.

The beta dropped down to sit next to Harry, close enough that he could feel the dominant's body heat. He looked over Harry's shoulder at the sheet of parchment in his hand, which bore line after line of the alphabet, followed by lines of simple words all written out in a shaky, inexperienced scrawl.

“Tons,” Harry replied with a soft groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, but unfortunately that also happened to be the hand that held his quill, and he cursed as a smear of black painted his cheek.

Chuckling, Ulrich leant in, and like a mother and young child, he licked his thumb and wiped off the ink. Harry grimaced and laughed a little as he wiggled out of the hold, but once more, Harry found himself surprised at how decidedly _not_ unpleasant the touch had been.

“Can I help?” Ulrich asked once he settled back into his original position, and Harry eyed him curiously.

“Aren't you supposed to be monitoring the perimeter of the territory or something like that?” Harry asked with an arched brow, and Ulrich snorted a little as he shook his head.

“I'm not a sentry, Harry. Besides, I'm off duty right now. So I'll ask again: need any help?”

Harry continued to eye him with confusion, but Ulrich's warm, open expression did not waver.

“Sure,” Harry replied at last as he scooped up half of the scrolls and dumped them in the dominant's lap, then held out one of his spare quills. “Go nuts.”

Ulrich grinned and reached out to take the self-inking quill, deliberately brushing Harry's fingers with his own as he accepted it, and Harry felt his neck grow uncomfortably warm at the touch.

 

“I don't know what I was thinking,” Harry said conversationally a few minutes later as he finished marking the tenth scroll and set it aside, “being a professor is a _lot_ of work, I don't know what possessed me to accept Grey—er, I mean, _Alpha's_ assignment...”

“Probably self-preservation, considering Alpha does not offer you a task in the pack, he assigns it to you,” Ulrich replied in a simple, matter-of-fact tone. “If you had declined it, Alpha likely would have smacked you around a little for your insolence.”

“Do werewolves _always_ have to use their fists instead of their words to solve their problems?” Harry grumbled, not looking up from his work.

“Not all werewolves do, but Alpha has to be more strict than others,” Ulrich replied in the same tone. “If he bends for you, he has to bend for everyone, and it gets chaotic. In the end it's best for the pack, so I wouldn't bitch too much about it—you don't know him like I do.” Ulrich's voice had taken on a cold edge, and Harry winced, catching on that he'd inadvertently offended him.

“Sorry,” Harry said quickly while he cast the dominant an apologetic glance.

Ulrich nodded stiffly, but did not answer, and the pair fell into an awkward silence as they returned to the task at hand. Between the two of them, it took very little time to finish off the corrections, and with a lazy flick of his wand, Harry banished the scrolls, and he watched them zoom smoothly across the territory and towards the Sub House with a small smile on his face.

Almost immediately a large, warm hand covered one of Harry's, and he jumped a little in surprise as his gaze whipped over to his companion. At his reaction, Ulrich's hopeful expression fell a little, and he began to retract his hand.

At the last moment, Harry impulsively reached for it, and once more he found himself marvelling at how small it looked intertwined with the dominant's hand. His action seemed to have stunned Ulrich into silence, and he simply stared at Harry in wide-eyed shock for a long moment, before a hopeful glint had begun to spark in his expression.

“Erm,” Harry began, and glanced up quickly at Ulrich's warm, hopeful smile before he looked back down to their intertwined hands while he tried to gather his thoughts. “I've been thinking about your offer, or suggestion, or however you want to phrase it...well, pretty much nonstop.”

“Nonstop?” Ulrich queried, and Harry felt his neck grow warm, but didn't look up.

“Er...yeah,” Harry replied awkwardly, “I mean...part of me still feels kind of not ready. After everything, it's still kind of...I still feel sort of stuck, but...well...I like you,” Harry paused and glanced back up at Ulrich. His eyes had widened a little in surprise, his eyebrows had shot up, and his chocolate brown eyes seemed to glimmer as he waited for Harry to finish speaking. Harry swallowed the last of his reservations as he said, “if it's okay with you, I mean, if you understand that I'm not entirely sure if I'm ready, but I—I want to try. I just...I don't want to hurt you.”

Ulrich's look of uncertainty dissolved as his mouth split into a wide, brilliant smile that seemed to light up his whole face. He shifted to close the distance between them at once, and he ignored Harry's soft gasp of surprise as he reached up with his free hand to rest it against the back of Harry's neck, and he brushed his lips over the sub's in the ghost of a kiss.

“Yes, Harry,” Ulrich murmured softly while he continued to smile at him with warm, unabashed adoration, “I would like that very much.”

 


	7. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a quick thank you, a hundred times, thank you, for all the amazing comments you guys left on the last chapter! It's always risky throwing an OC into a fanfic, and I'm really glad you guys like Ulrich as much as I do. ^.^ The next update will be June 16th, and until then I hope you guys enjoy today's instalment! I didn't have as much time as usual this week to edit, so apologies in advance for any minor mistakes!

Chapter Seven – The Return

 

When Harry had agreed to try 'being with' Ulrich and whatever that entailed, he realized quickly that his experience with Remus had utterly screwed up his relationship expectations with the beta.

Harry was genuinely shocked when in the fortnight following that first tentative barely-a-kiss, Ulrich had not tried anything to get them into bed more quickly. They ate together, Harry now finding himself seated with Ulrich, Adina, Tavish, _and_ Greyback, which was a mildly unnerving experience—not because of whom he was with, but the fact that as the beta's courting partner, he was once more being regarded as a person of importance, at least within the pack, when _all_ Harry wanted was to be seen as was another face in the crowd.

Aside from taking their meals together and occasionally wandering around the edges of the territory when they weren't busy with their respective pack duties, they did nothing that Harry correlated with a romantic relationship. It was more like a casual friendship, at least in Harry's eyes, but he had no idea how to address it, or even how he felt about it one way or the other. On the one hand, Harry was deeply grateful that Ulrich seemed to understand his reservations and thus was going slow for him, and on the other hand, he wondered just how long Ulrich would hold out before his pushy dominant instincts began to muck everything up.

While Ulrich had been more or less a perfect gentleman with him, the same could not be said for his attitude towards the other dominants in the pack. He was deeply territorial of Harry, and now instead of Harry skirting around the dominants, it had reversed, and the dominants had begun to steer clear of _him_.

“Ulrich,” Harry had said in warning at the beginning of their second week together, when he began to posture and glare at Anton, one of the dominants in the regular hunting party. At the sound of his name he turned to look at Harry, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I know some subs probably enjoy the whole possessive thing you're doing,” he began, his voice monotonous—it wasn't like this was the first time he'd had to say this. “But I am not some fair maiden whose virtue needs protecting. I can take care of myself, so knock it off or I'll use _you_ as my test dummy when I start teaching my kids defence.”

“This isn't the muggle or wizarding world, where your claim that you are involved with someone is a sufficient deterrent,” Ulrich countered at once as his mouth twitched into a small frown, “if I don't, it's very likely that someone might challenge me for you.”

“And _I_ am a person, _not_ a piece of meat,” Harry replied heatedly, his eyes narrowing a little, “if you're gonna pull this shit every time another dominant gets within twenty feet of me, this relationship isn't going to last very long.”

Harry brazenly met Ulrich's gaze after he'd finished his statement to force the point home that he wasn't messing around, and the dominant's expression shifted quickly from frustrated to shocked as he stared back at Harry. Neither man blinked, and Harry could feel his eyes beginning to burn from the strain when, to his complete shock, Ulrich dropped his gaze.

The dominant stood from the bench and circled behind Harry; he was about to ask what he was up to, when he sat back down directly behind him, and his enormous, muscled thighs caged in his narrower hips. Ulrich bent forward and wrapped his arms securely around Harry's waist, while he buried his nose in the crook of his neck, scenting him so intimately that Harry felt a tremor run through him at the intimate contact.

“I'll try,” he murmured, softly enough that it was clear that the words were for Harry's ears only. “My instincts tell me one thing, while you ask for another. I cannot say that I will always be able to ignore the need to defend my claim of you, Harry, but I _will_ try.” Harry smiled softly, and leant back into the embrace.

“That's all I ask.”

 

Following their discussion, Harry was subject to a strange combination of Ulrich showing him that he was indeed _trying_ to do as Harry had requested, and him displaying his claim of him anyway, but in smaller, less noticeable ways. Harry had a feeling that Ulrich thought he was being covert in the way he would 'casually' embrace him or lightly perch his chin on the top of Harry head when another dominant passed them by, or the way he would scent him at dinner, checking for any indication that he had been near to another dominant during his lessons.

Harry felt caught between irritation at the Ulrich's behaviour, and strangely endeared to it at the same time. Something in him positively preened at the attentions the beta of the pack was giving to him, and Harry often wondered if that was due to his status as a sub werewolf, and if that was indeed the case, he had no idea how he felt about his instincts manipulating him like that.

In the evenings after he'd bid goodbye to Ulrich at the doors of the Sub House, he had brought his concerns to Tavish, but he wasn't nearly as helpful as Harry had hoped that he would be.

“Harry, it's a new claim,” Tavish said with a note of impatience in his voice, “the beta of our pack sought you out during the full moon and you accepted him. When Alpha claimed me, we fell into bed the same day. We're ruled by instinct, not morality; we're not used to the concept of taking it slow.”

“We've been seeing each other for barely a fortnight,” Harry replied, and didn't bother to try masking his irritation at Tavish's lack of support. “It's not sex or intimacy or whatever that's bothering me, it's the whole dominance thing. I'm not a...a toy, or a piece of meat, I'm a _person_. Why is it too much to ask that I be treated like one?”

“I know this is going to sound awful,” Tavish began, his expression falling a little as he paused and scooted back on his bed a little to fold his legs under him before he continued, “but it's just how it is. Being a sub here is _loads_ better than a ton of other packs in the region. Where I was before...” he broke off and shuddered, the look on his face darkening in shame as he focused his gaze on his knees. “A little posturing isn't the end of the world. Dominants aren't the most well-rounded when it comes to self-esteem, and they're constantly paranoid about losing their mates. It's not that he thinks of you as less of a person, he's just afraid of losing you.”

Tavish paused, his expression thoughtful while he picked at a zit on the edge of his jaw. After a moment, he began to speak again,“some of it is part of our culture, though. I know you don't like it, but it goes against everything to _not_ display claim on you. Maybe you should compromise, and not be so...so...sensitive?” Tavish's voice dropped to a soft squeak as he spoke the last word.

Harry bristled at the accusation that he was being _sensitive_ , but he couldn't deny that Tavish was also right. To ask Ulrich to go against his instincts to accommodate him _was_ a little selfish, now that he thought on it more, he felt a twinge of guilt worm its way into his mind.

He fell back onto the plush mattress without a word and jammed his eyes shut, hoping that tomorrow would come with answers with how to deal with his newest problem.

 

~*~

 

The following morning Harry got dressed in a haze and went down to breakfast, only to find that Ulrich was nowhere to be seen. His absence unsettled Harry more than he expected it would, and he stood there with his breakfast in his hands, uncertain where to sit, now that Ulrich was elsewhere.

“C'mon,” Tavish whispered as he caught up to him with his own bowl of food, and he dragged Harry off to the edge of the circle, and the pair plopped down onto the grass.

“Alpha took Ulrich off early this morning, Adina just told me,” Tavish whispered softly, while Harry speared a hunk of potato and jammed it into his mouth, despite the fact that he suddenly didn't feel very hungry. “The rogues killed a human last night, and left the carcass near our borders. Alpha needs to do some damage control before the wizard Ministry comes down on all of us for it.”

“Will they be all right?” Harry asked just as softly, quite keen to not be overheard, “I mean, will the Aurors arrest Grey—er, Alpha or Ulrich?”

“I doubt it,” Tavish replied with a quick shake of his head, “I heard that the victim was some muggle hunter, but it's better safe than sorry. Plus, leaving a carcass out in the sun to rot like that...it'll draw scavengers to us, and that's not exactly something we want to have happen, either.”

“Like...foxes or something?”

“Or something,” Tavish replied with a soft snort. “Thestrals, Soul Eaters...sometimes Chimeras will eat dead flesh if they can't find anything fresh.”

“Soul Eaters?” Harry asked as he cocked his head to the side, “you mean Dementors?” At once, Tavish's gaze hardened.

“Dementors look like fluffy little bunnies compared to Soul Eaters,” he said, his tone low and cryptic. “They're an Asian species of the Dementor, but much more dangerous. The rumour goes that the Ministry tried to acquire some to guard Azkaban, you needed less of them compared to Dementors, but they rebelled and half the prisoners lost their souls before the Ministry corralled them and _reportedly_ destroyed them. Except...they didn't. They hid them away in deep forests where humans don't normally tread, and on occasion a human may cross its path, but everyone would just assume that it was a Dementor attack and leave it at that.”

“Okay, but...they sound _just_ like Dementors,” Harry said, blinking in confusion. Tavish huffed a little, as though he was explaining a painfully simple concept to a particularly thick person. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as he was suddenly reminded of a school-age Hermione.

“No, Harry,” Tavish said, “Soul Eaters eat your soul, but that isn't the end. The particular Soul Eater that gets your soul does not just _eat_ it, but owns it—controls it. That human will be bound to it...a mindless slave until the Soul Eater kills them and eats their flesh, or the body gives out, whichever comes first. Patronuses won't drive it away either, the only way to kill one is to injure it with a weapon made of iron and dipped in werewolf blood—which is why I think the Ministry dumped them here. Maybe they thought we'd finish each other off or something, I don't know.”

Harry thought over what Tavish had said quietly. To see someone who was usually so happy-go-lucky acting so serious was more than a little unnerving, and that in itself told Harry that he was likely not exaggerating. The Soul Eater sounded like a cross between a Dementor and an Inferi to Harry, and both creatures were fearsome enough on their own, and combined with its apparent immunity to the Patronus Charm, it sounded like a creature that he would never want to meet, and shivered a little at the idea.

“Exactly,” Tavish said to his physical response, “c'mon, let's eat, they should be back soon.”

 

~*~

 

It was a few hours before Harry could smell Ulrich nearby, and he felt his heart flutter a little and his muscles relax almost at once. He hadn't been wholly aware of just how anxious he was in Ulrich's absence until that moment, and he stepped momentarily away from his charges, all preoccupied with their copies of _Magical Theory_ open in front of them. Ulrich closed the distance between them, and reached out to rest a hand on Harry's shoulder, then trailed it down the length of his arm before taking Harry's much smaller hand in his.

“You're back.”

“I am.”

“Crisis averted, then?” Harry asked with a cocked brow, and Ulrich chuckled as he nodded.

“The carcass was a mess when we found it, but we're pretty sure that we got all the bits, and we burned them. It should keep any scavengers from getting too close.” He pecked Harry's lips lightly and offered his hand a squeeze. “Come find me after you finish with your lessons, yeah?”

“O-okay,” Harry replied with a faint flush to his cheeks, and smiled as he watched the beta lift his hand in a half-wave before he sauntered off towards the cabins.

Harry watched him go for a moment, then the voice of one of his pupils brought him back to reality.

“Harry?” Harry turned and saw Jordan, one of the fifteen-year-olds standing back and regarding him uncertainly. He was a little on the timid side, even for a sub male, and he always reminded Harry of Neville at that age.

“Yeah? Something you're not getting?” Harry asked kindly as he stepped over to him, and the nervous edge to his expression fell as he face broke into a relieved smile.

“Um, yeah, just this here...” He held out the book, and Harry took it from him, guiding the teen back to the group while he went over the section first by himself, then turned to Jordan and began explaining the concept—Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. As he went over it, Harry couldn't help but smile to himself. _Hermione would be so proud._

 

~*~

 

The following week, Harry found himself on the edge of the territory, Ulrich's hands on his hips as he regarded him with a look of concern. The was a note of possessiveness to the look, but Harry did his best to ignore it. Ulrich _was_ trying, after all, and Harry felt that it wouldn't be fair if he didn't at least try to meet him halfway.

“Harry, I don't like this, you off alone in the wood...”

“I'm just visiting with a friend, that's all,” Harry said for what was likely the hundredth time since he'd explained his plans to his courting partner. “She's human, you and I _both_ know that Gr—that Alpha won't let her into the territory because she's a pureblood. We're sticking to the west side, where the rogues haven't been spotted, I have my wand, and Ginny isn't exactly helpless. We'll be _fine_.”

“Maybe I should—”

“—you are _not_ coming with me,” Harry interrupted with a frown. “I may be a sub werewolf, but I'm not some weakling that needs a bodyguard.”

Ulrich didn't verbally respond, but instead tugged Harry closer, and he shivered a little when he felt, rather than heard the low growl escape the dominant. He sealed his lips over Harry's in a kiss, but despite the rough movements and firm grip, the kiss was gentle.

“Be careful, and don't let your guard down,” Ulrich whispered, and Harry smiled, nodding his head once.

“I always stay out of trouble, you know me.”

Ulrich snorted derisively as he let him go, but it seemed almost painful for him to do so. Harry offered him one last smile of reassurance before he turned and wove through the trees to the spot where he'd agreed to meet Ginny.

Harry picked his way through the wood, shivering a little as he felt the territory's warding tickle over his skin, and just made it to their meeting place when she appeared with a sharp _crack_ of Apparition.

Ginny looked no different than the last time he'd seen her—all red hair and fire. She was grinning from ear to ear, dressed in dark slacks and a green jumper, her hair was loose around her face, but there was one thing that _was_ different. It took Harry a moment to notice it, then he gasped as he took in the glinting of two rings on the third finger of her left hand—a diamond engagement ring, and a simple golden band.

“No way,” Harry said, his voice caught somewhere between a shock and amusement, “you _married_ that Slytherin prat?”

“Eloped, actually,” she replied with a laugh, “Mum and Dad weren't super keen on him from the get-go, and the Malfoys just _barely_ tolerated me. We figured the best way to avoid a lot of figurative bloodshed was to do it was quietly as possible. You're the only one who knows, so...”

“...don't tell Ron?” he finished for her, and she grinned.

“It's a little scary how well you know me, sometimes,” she said with a laugh, and Harry merely answered with a grin of his own.

The pair fell in step together, and Harry led her along the edge of the territory, keeping close to the western side, and not daring to go too far east. While they walked, Harry filled Ginny in on life with the pack, as well as his relationship with Ulrich.

“And there's sparks?” she asked, her face alight with a reserved sort of hope for his new relationship.

“Definitely,” Harry replied with a small chuckle, “I mean, he's nice, and attractive, and cares about me, but it almost feels like there's something missing...”

“...he's not making you miserable?” Ginny offered, and Harry groaned. That was it.

“I _really_ need to get away from that attraction to emotionally stunted older men...thing,” Harry muttered, and Ginny smiled softly as he continued. “I mean, Ulrich's so solid, I feel like he'd never hurt me, but can a nice, safe relationship with him be as passionate as what I had with...” Harry trailed off as a lump formed in his throat. Would he _ever_ be able to talk about Remus without it feeling like his insides were being shredded with a blunt razor?

“It'll take time,” Ginny said consolingly as she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, “and I think this Ulrich will be good for you. Hermione's told me about him a bit, and he sounds like a nice man...er, werewolf. But I have to meet him properly, you realize.”

“Planning to leave him alive afterward?” Harry joked, but her conspiratorial smirk wasn't exactly reassuring.

“If I approve of him,” she replied simply.

“Bit rich coming from you,” Harry replied with a snort, “considering I'm pretty sure everyone is horrified that you're dati—er, _married_ to an effing Malfoy.”

“He's not that bad and you know it,” Ginny countered, and gave him a small shove, but her grin told Harry that she wasn't actually offended by his statement.

“So how _did_ the ferret pop the question, anyway?” Harry asked, still somewhat stuck on genuinely dumbstruck that Ginny had actually _married_ Draco Malfoy. “I can't exactly picture Malfoy on his knees.” Harry paused and wrinkled his nose. “Okay, now I can, and it's _really_ disturbing.”

“Pervert,” she said, laughing as she shoved him again, then sobered up a little as a thoughtful, warm look crossed her face. “It was...sweet,” she said after a moment's pause, “he took me to Barcelona for our one-year anniversary, and while we were there he sort of...suggested it. Lucius had apparently been inviting round every eligible Slytherin girl to try and get him to break it off with me, and he wanted to show that he was serious about me, not just having me around to irritate his father or whatever they thought about him spending time with me.”

“That is sweet,” Harry agreed with a vague smile, “but if he hurts you, I'll rip his fucking bollocks off.”

“ _Please_ , Harry,” she said with a snort, “if he hurts me, I'd much rather the honour myself.”

“Fair enough,” he replied with a chuckle, “but if you—”

Harry broke off and froze in mid step.

Something was wrong.

“Harry?” Ginny asked uncertainly, “is everything—” Harry silenced her with a soft hiss.

“Something...” he whispered, and wrinkling his nose; whatever he could smell now was not a scent as he defined the word, but a feeling, like someone's aura. The scent made his nose burn, and he shuddered involuntarily. “Something's coming, you should go, and I'll get back to the territory.”

“I'm not leaving you if something is coming!” she whispered back, “I'd never forgive myself if I bolted and you got hurt.” Her voice was fierce despite the soft tone in which she spoke, but softened as she continued to speak, “d'you know what it is?”

“Not human...not werewolf either. I”m not sure what it is.” Harry whispered while he shook his head and looked around for any sign of something approaching them, but the forest was silent— _too_ silent, Harry suddenly realized. The wind seemed to have forgotten to whisper through the trees, the birds were not singing, and the other animals of the forest were completely still.

A shuddering gasp sounded from next to him, and Harry whipped around to see Ginny's eyes cloud over, as though her eyes had suddenly filled with a dense, grey fog. Her knees buckled as she collapsed, and her limbs twitched as she lay there. She almost looked unconscious, except for the fact that her eyes were wide and unblinking.

“Ginny!” Harry cried as he crouched down and reached for her arm to shook her gently, but aside from the soft choking sounds she made and her jerking limbs, she made no sign that she was even alive. “Ginny, _no!_ Please, please get up!”

The sound of a low, rattling breath filled Harry's ears, and he almost felt his heart stop as his eyes went wide.

He knew that sound.

Harry whipped around, one hand still on his friend (he trying to keep his head despite the panic he felt at how rapidly ice-cold her skin was becoming) and came face-to-face with what he knew at once was what Tavish had warned him about not a full week earlier.

The Soul Eater looked both exactly like a Dementor, and nothing like one at the same time. It did not wear a full robe, but seemed to be wearing tattered bits of fabric that could at one time have been clothes, and they seemed to be made out of the same dense fog that had filled Ginny's eyes. It was thin, skeletal, with grey, glistening skin that did not cover every inch of its form, and in the places where it was absent it seemed as though it had rotted away, and Harry could see ghostly white bone and tendon. Its sightless eyes bore into Harry with a look not unlike lust, and it drew another terrifying, rattling breath as it lifted a bony hand and pointed straight at Harry.

Harry gasped sharply and fell to his knees, his heart seemed to freeze when the creature pointed at him. His head spun, he made a grab for his wand and pointed it at the creature.

“ _E-Expecto Patronum!_ ” Harry cried on reflex, and cursed as he watched the stag erupt from the tip of his wand and canter straight through the Soul Eater, having quite forgotten that the Patronus Charm was useless against this thing.

_Iron..._ Harry thought as his mind began to blur, _I need something made of iron..._

But where to find something like that in the middle of the forest?

Harry's vision began to warp, his condition made worse by his panic at how he could possibly get himself and Ginny out of this safely when a sudden high, piercing shriek broke the silence of the wood.

Harry's vision cleared, and Ginny sit up sharply.

Directly before them, a man was bearing down on the creature, a bloodstained fire poker in his hands. Harry felt deeply chilled by the sight, but the blood, the weapon, and the dying creature was not what had drawn a shocked gasp from Harry's lips, but instead it stemmed from his recognition of the man who had come to their rescue.

Even without seeing his face, even if he could not scent it, Harry would recognize that old, tatty, brown cardigan anywhere.

 

_Remus._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As far as I know, the Soul Eater thing is my own invention. If you want to use it in your own story, please credit me.


	8. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SURPRISE! Early update cuz I'll be busy on Friday. Next update will be June 23rd

Chapter Eight – Jealousy

 

Harry stared.

Of all the things he had expected to see when he'd left the wizarding world behind, Remus had not been anywhere in the equation. Harry had been quite certain that he would never see him again.

And yet, here he was, saving his life—again.

When the creature had stopped twitching, Remus straightened up and turned around with a small smile on his face. He looked the same as ever, save for the fact that he looked _bigger_ than Harry remembered—his shoulders were a little more broad, and some of the lines of age upon his face seemed to have faded a little. Harry had only just had enough time to take in the sight of the dark bloodstain upon the sleeve of the well-worn cardigan when his vision was suddenly obscured by the large form of Ulrich all but lunging at him.

“Harry!” Ulrich cried as he dropped in front of the submissive and drew him close, immediately scenting him for injury, “are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Harry squirmed a little in the suffocating hold, but Ulrich did not let up, and merely pressed Harry more firmly against his chest, as though terrified that Harry might disappear if he let go.

“Ulrich,” Harry began, but Ulrich's hold on him didn't slacken at all. “Ulrich, I'm fine, don't make a fuss,” Harry tried to push him back, but in Remus's presence, Ulrich's dominant tendencies that he usually made every effort to dampen at Harry's request surged to the forefront, and he held Harry close in a clear show of claim. Harry did not feel ashamed of being with Ulrich like this in front of Remus (he deserved to feel hurt after everything he'd put him through, as far as Harry was concerned), but he still strongly disliked being treated like a possession, instead of a person. “Ulrich, please, let go, I'm _fine_.”

His words did not seem to be reaching the dominant, and so Harry tried a different tack—he arched up a little in the tight embrace, and kissed him.

 

Time stood still.

 

Harry had kissed Ulrich before, of course, but the kiss this time did a number of things all at once: it snapped Ulrich out of his Possessive Mate state of mind, and it showed Remus without the shadow of a doubt that Harry had moved on from him.

When they broke apart Remus was gone, and the weapon that he had used had been left behind. Ginny was still sitting next to them, a suggestive brow arched, which caused Harry to flush slightly.

“As charming as it is watching you two snog,” she said, “I think I'd like to go home now.”

“Sorry,” Harry replied with a sheepish grin, and disentangled himself from Ulrich to stand up and help Ginny to her feet. Thankfully, without Remus hanging around, Ulrich's domineering tendencies seemed to have calmed somewhat, though he still stuck very close to Harry's side.

For the moment, Harry ignored Ulrich's attitude while he helped Ginny. She still seemed to be a little unsteady on her feet, but at the same time she seemed frustrated by her own weakness. She nodded her thanks and pulled back from Harry, despite the fact that Harry could see her wobbling a little as she stood there, and he found the urge to roll his eyes.

“Let me take you home?” Harry asked, and Ginny nodded a little, her jaw set and Harry moved to walk her a little farther away from the corpse of the Soul Eater, but he found himself stopped short by a pair of hands at his waist. Blinking in confusion, Harry turned his gaze up to Ulrich, but his expression was unreadable.

“Let me come with you,” Ulrich said. Something in his tone made it sound less like a request and more like a command, and Harry momentarily debated brushing him off and simply taking Ginny home himself, but something about the look in Ulrich's eyes told Harry that he wasn't about to get rid of him that easily, especially not so soon after his encounter with the Soul Eater and Remus's surprise guest appearance. Ulrich, who was always so sure of himself, now looked nervous, though Harry couldn't pinpoint exactly why, or what he may have done to warrant such an expression on his courting partner's face.

“All right, fine, just...” Harry trailed off, uncertain what he wanted to ask of him. He shook his head, and with Ulrich still holding onto him, he took Ginny's hand and Disapparated.

 

~*~

 

The trip to and from the 'little' flat that Ginny shared with Malfoy took less than thirty seconds, (though to Harry it seemed less like a flat and more like a small-scale mansion) but having Malfoy bite his head off (interspersed with Ginny and Ulrich getting properly acquainted by trying to keep their respective partners from coming to blows) made it feel much longer. When the pair returned to the edge of the territory, Harry could have sung his relief.

“I will never in a _million_ years understand what she sees in that git,” Harry grumbled, rubbing his arm where Malfoy's hex had _just_ missed him, but had still managed to singe the shoulder of his jumper. The move drew Ulrich's attention to the near-wound upon his sub, and Harry narrowed his eyes when he saw the dominant's lip curl back. “Don't you fucking dare, Ulrich,” Harry said grumpily, “things are bad enough without you attacking the only Malfoy heir...” he trailed off as his thoughts jumped back to Remus's sudden appearance.

More than his hasty disappearance following Harry's show of affection to Ulrich, Harry had to wonder why he had come in the first place. Had he followed Ginny? Had he been hiding out in the forest, waiting for Harry to appear? Had it been mere coincidence?

No answers came to him, and the memory of his presence had unsettled Harry more than he would have liked to admit. He was drawn out of his thoughts by Ulrich's tall frame draping over him as he was drawn into a gentle embrace. His back was pressed against Ulrich's chest, and the dominant's hands moved to rest at his hips.

Harry rested his hands over Ulrich's larger ones, and he shivered a little as he relaxed against him. The edge of Ulrich's nose tickled the side of his throat, and Harry jumped a little in surprise when he felt a wet tongue trail along the column of flesh. It was not a sexual action; Harry could feel that it was the equivalent of a kiss or hug in the wizarding or muggle world.

“We better get back,” Ulrich murmured reluctantly, “Alpha will want a report on a Soul Eater being so close to our borders.”

“All right,” Harry replied, feeling slightly disappointed. These quiet moments with Ulrich had been few and far between, and every time they got close to going a little bit further, Ulrich would back off. Harry couldn't quite understand the attitude, but didn't push it, and instead took the dominant's hand and allowed Ulrich to lead him back home.

 

As they got closer to the territory, Harry began to pick up on a particular scent, and at first, he could not pinpoint exactly what it was. It made his skin both crawl and hum at the same time, and whatever it was, it seemed as though Harry was not the only one who had picked up on it. He heard Ulrich growl softly, and his hand tensed over Harry's as he inched closer to him protectively.

Harry was on the cusp of asking Ulrich what exactly he was smelling when they passed into the territory's main congregating area, and both Harry and Ulrich froze in dual shock.

 

Across the clearing, standing there and talking with Greyback, was Remus.

 

“What the _hell_ is he doing here?” Harry hissed, and following his words he let out a soft yelp of surprise as Ulrich pulled Harry flush against his chest, and he glared over his head at the other dominant. Harry yanked himself out of Ulrich's hold, and his sudden move drew Ulrich's attention back to him, his eyes wide with surprise. “No, don't you dare,” Harry growled, “if you start pulling that Jealous Werewolf bollocks with me when Remus is around, I will kill you, I swear.”

“But he—”

“— _no,_ ” Harry interrupted, his voice firm. “I'm with you now. No matter what Remus is doing here, that won't change anything. Do you seriously think I'm that shallow, that I'd drop you at the earliest convenience?”

“Well, no...”

“Then there is _no_ need for you to start that possessive dominant...thing. I won't have it. I'm not some...some... _toy_ you and... _others_ can fight over. I'm a person. I won't have you treating me like that.” Harry crossed his arms and glared at Ulrich, all but daring him to contradict him. After the last year he'd had, Harry refused to become _that_ person again, no matter what he stood to lose by that decision.

Ulrich glared right back, his teeth gritted in frustration, clearly fighting with his instincts to drag Harry away and claim him properly. After almost a full minute, Harry watched his shoulders sag as he gave in.

“Fine,” he muttered like a sulking child, “you win.”

Harry frowned at him, but did not miss the worried, insecure look in the dominant's eyes, and he immediately reached forward to take his hand in an effort to reassure him that he wasn't going anywhere. Ulrich's fingers tensed around Harry's, just as Remus stepped away from Greyback and made a beeline for them.

Ulrich instinctively tugged Harry closer to him, and though this attitude still deeply bothered Harry, he did not allow himself to react to the show of claim. Instinctively, he knew that fighting it now would come across as a weakness to the other approaching dominant. It still irked him, but Harry also did not want Remus to think that there was anything casual about his relationship with Ulrich.

Harry watched Remus continue forward as though he had not noticed the move, a very uncharacteristic gleam of confidence in his eye that Harry had rarely seen. Harry swallowed nervously, and pressed himself closer to Ulrich, who immediately wrapped an arm around Harry's waist.

“Harry,” Remus said as he stopped before them, completely ignoring the other dominant as he spoke, “I can't apologize to you for what I have done—what I have put you through. But these last weeks without you...” he paused, his expression shifting to one of deep anguish, and it took several seconds for Remus to find his voice again before he continued. “There is nothing I can say that can make this right. I've hurt you, and there is no forgiving that.”

“Then why are you here?” Harry asked coldly while he moved to rest his hands on Ulrich in a clear acceptance of the contact, and he watched the confident gleam in the older werewolf's eye begin to waver.

“I cannot simply _say_ that I am sorry,” Remus explained, “I need to show you that I mean it. Greyback has agreed to let me into the pack again, taking up the role as the pack Omega. My penance, as it were, for treating you in such a shameful and reprehensible manner.”

His eyes flitted briefly to Ulrich and narrowed slightly, then without another word, he spun on his heel and walked away as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

~*~

 

By nightfall, it appeared as though Remus's intent to prove to Harry that he had 'changed' was at least partially genuine.

He had not left the territory, but neither did he approach Harry again, or even _look_ at him. He kept to himself, attended to the various menial duties that Alpha assigned him diligently, and never offered up a word of complaint.

Harry couldn't decide whether or not Remus's decision to completely ignore him was a good or bad thing. At the same time, he was fairly certain that Remus's distance may have had something to do with Ulrich's near-constant presence at his side.

Despite the dominant's promises to reign in his possessive tendencies, Harry could see that he was finding it difficult for him to adhere to Harry's request that he not be treated like an object when Remus was around. Ulrich stuck close to him, checked up on him frequently when he was unable to keep an eye on Harry at all times, and had pulled Harry into an intimate embrace right in front of his students and scented him, which had been more than a little embarrassing, while his pupils giggled at his clear embarrassment.

At the dinner circle, Ulrich had insisted on fetching Harry's meal, and sat very close to him as they ate. Remus wasn't eating; as omega he had to wait for everyone to finish before he was allowed his share, but he kept to himself. The one time he dared look up, his eyes caught Harry's, and the action was quickly met with a low, warning growl from Ulrich. At first, Harry wasn't certain Remus would have been able to hear it over the noise of the circle, but the way his gaze quickly dropped, Harry supposed that he must have.

Remus did not look at him again that evening.

As the dinner circle dispersed and Remus was finally allowed to eat, Ulrich's hand found Harry's, and he tugged him to his feet. Harry was happy to follow the beta's lead, and Ulrich shifted his grip to wrap an arm around Harry as he led him away from the bustle of the main area of the territory to a space closer to the cabins, where they could be alone.

“Harry?” Ulrich said, his tone so vulnerable and uncertain that Harry found himself startled into silence. He couldn't remember ever hearing the beta sound unsure of himself before.

“Yeah?”

“Would you...I mean, would you like to come to my cabin tonight?” he asked in a very small voice, and Harry's eyes widened a little in surprise at the request. “We don't have to do anything,” he added quickly, “I just...I sort of liked the idea of you being nearby...tonight.”

Harry could all but hear the reason for the request in his stance, tone of voice, and facial expression. He felt it too—the unease Remus's presence had caused for both of them, the uncertainty that Ulrich felt over Harry's feelings for him—all of it.

As Harry stood there, a twinge of guilt lanced through him. He had been so busy being pushy about not wanting to be treated like an object, like someone's toy, that he had completely failed to remember that he wasn't in the wizarding world anymore. He had new rules to play by, and to be so dismissive of Ulrich's possessive attitude had probably added to the dominant's anxiety, instead of taking away from it.

Keen to do some damage control before Ulrich's uncertainty worsened, Harry reached out and took Ulrich's hand, while he offered him a small smile.

“Just let me get a change of clothes and my toothbrush, yeah?” Harry said, and Ulrich's face immediately broke into a dazzling smile.

 

~*~

 

“Ooh, a sleepover with your new beau?” Tavish trilled as Harry finished explaining himself and tucked a clean set of clothes under his arm. He flushed a deep scarlet at his friend's words, and the reaction was met with an impish grin.

“It's nothing like that,” Harry explained, though Tavish's grin merely widened when Harry's flush did not recede at all. “I think he's a bit freaked by Remus being here, that's all.” Tavish raised an eyebrow. “No, seriously, that's _all._ ”

“Uh huh. _Sure_.”

 

Harry stepped out of the Sub House less than ten minutes later, his face still a little warm from Tavish's teasing, and immediately almost collided with someone who had been standing just outside of the house.

“Damn, I—” his apology for his clumsiness was halfway out of his mouth before he caught the scent of the person and realized who had been loitering outside of the Sub House. He gritted his teeth and took a large step backward. “What do _you_ want?” Harry asked coldly, and Remus flinched a little at his tone.

“I came by to apologize,” Remus replied simply, and despite the physical show of submission—the bowed head, the soft tone of voice, there was still an edge of _claim_ to his body language that made Harry very uneasy. “I didn't mean to cause you any distress—”

“Then why are you here, Remus?” Harry interrupted with a frown, “you being here is distressing to me. I am _trying_ to get over you—to move on. And you being here, seeing your face every day, how would it _not_ be upsetting, after what you did?”

“Harry,” Remus said, his tone pleading as he lifted his gaze and stared into Harry's eyes, “I'm sorry. I want to fix things, I want—” as he spoke, he had lifted his hand, extending it towards Harry, and he instinctively jumped out of reach of the appendage.

“ _Don't_ touch me, Remus,” Harry growled, “there is nothing _to_ fix. Everything we had, everything we were, you destroyed. What I want, more than anything, is for you to _leave me alone._ Am I being clear?”

Too shaken by Remus's sudden appearance, Harry did not even wait for a response before he turned and bolted towards Ulrich's cabin without looking back.

Every new werewolf instinct that he had screamed at Harry letting the perceived threat out of his sight, but he refused to show his unease by looking back, and instead wove through the cabins and over to Ulrich's as quickly as he could.

Harry had never been to his cabin before, but it was easy to find. As beta of the pack, Ulrich was entitled to certain privileges—being the second to eat after the alpha and his mates, assuming a leadership role when Alpha was elsewhere—and larger living quarters.

His cabin was almost the same size as Greyback's, and stood about ten feet from the short incline where the alpha's quarters resided. It was made of the same wood as all the other cabins in the territory, and as Harry approached it, his nose twitched as an acrid smell filled his senses, and though it was strong, the smell of the fresh scent markers did not unnerve him, but instead put him more at ease. No matter how desperate Remus was to redeem himself, Harry was fairly certain that even _he_ would be reluctant to cross scent markers as strong as these.

Still panting a little from his short run, Harry crossed into Ulrich's claimed space, and rapped his knuckles once against the door. It swung open at once, and Ulrich was already beaming at him.

“Harry,” Ulrich said warmly, “you don't need to kn—” he stopped short, and Harry saw his gaze darken.

“ _Nothing_ happened, Ulrich,” Harry growled, already feeling as though he had no more patience to deal with this Jealous Werewolf behaviour. “We talked—argued, more like that's _it_. If you start up this jealous spouse bollocks I will actually kill you.”

Ulrich paused and regarded Harry curiously, as though uncertain whether or not he was bluffing, but in the end he seemed to decide to not entertain his curiosity, and stepped aside to let Harry in.

Strangely, the cabin turned out to be both very different to Greyback's and exactly the same as his all at once. Pushed into the corner of the space was a thick mattress layered with furs and woven blankets; a shelf had been affixed to the wall nearby that held a stack of clean clothes, and piled haphazardly on the ground next to the bed were a number of well-worn paperback novels as well as an oil lamp. The fire pit was built high and ignited, washing the cabin's interior with a warm, comfortable light, and Harry could see a narrow, dark passageway that he assumed led to the toilet. It all felt very homey.

Harry was distracted from looking around the cabin further by the feeling of his clothes being plucked from his hands, and he looked up to see Ulrich smiling warmly at him. He stepped away from Harry long enough to stack his clothes alongside his own on the small shelf, then closed the distance between them, and Harry folded himself into the dominant's arms. The moment Ulrich's warmth and scent enveloped him, he immediately felt a little calmer.

“I'm sorry about today, Harry,” Ulrich murmured softly, and pecked his lips lightly, “Remus being here...I don't like it.”

“And you think I do?” Harry asked, “Ulrich, I _want_ to be with you. Every time I see Remus, it's like there's a knife in me, and it's being twisted. I just want to get over him and move on, but...”

“...but he won't let you,” Ulrich finished for him, and Harry laughed softly.

“Yeah, something like that. I know he wants me back, but it's way too late for that.” At his words, Ulrich's arms around him tensed a little, and he turned to lead Harry to the fireside. It was only after they had settled down, Harry sitting between Ulrich's legs, and the dominant's arms wrapped around Harry's middle, holding him close when he finally spoke again.

“Would it upset you terribly if I said that I refuse to let him have you?” he asked, and Harry laughed softly.

“For once, no, I don't think that that's terribly upsetting,” Harry replied as he leant back into the embrace, enjoying the comfort that Ulrich's presence offered after the stresses of the day. “I know I've been kind of...well, a bit of an arse when it comes to certain...er, aspects of werewolf culture,” he paused and frowned a little as guilt over his attitude settled itself in the pit of his stomach. “I'm sorry if I've made it difficult, it's just that after everything with Remus, it's hard to willingly let someone else take the lead.”

“It's hard,” Ulrich agreed, “but I do understand why you feel that way, Harry. What my instincts demand of me is no excuse for acting in a way that makes you uncomfortable.” Harry closed his eyes when he felt a soft kiss tickle the back of his neck, “but I want you to be happy, not uneasy, so I _am_ trying.”

Harry turned in the embrace, and arched up to kiss Ulrich gently. It bothered him a little how their shared kisses, while nice, and pleasant, they carried none of the fire or passion that kisses with Remus always had. But _unlike_ with Remus, Harry genuinely felt as though Ulrich would never do anything to hurt him, and that was a great comfort.

When they broke the kiss, Harry settled into the embrace with a contented sigh; the peaceful silence that fell between them was warm and cozy, but even with such a perfect little moment between them, Harry hated how it still felt like something was missing.

 

He refused to think about how the thing that seemed to be missing was _Remus_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: June 26th is the one-year anniversary of me posting this fic, hands down the longest piece I have ever written. I'd like to do something to commemorate it, and so the choices are companion piece or early update. Let me know in the comments which one you guys would prefer, and if you have any particular requests for a specific topic you'd like to see in a companion piece, let me know :)


	9. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey everyone, thank you so much for all your responses to companion piece vs. early update! It will be revealed on Monday which has been selected, and the following update after that will be June 30th.

Chapter Nine – Tension

 

In the days to come, with Ulrich so busy with the trouble that the rogues were still causing, Harry had begun to sorely miss his obsessive-compulsive hovering.

That wasn't to say that he missed the activity of Ulrich's irritating hovering and his domineering behaviour in particular, but Harry liked to think that if he _was_ around, maybe Remus would _back off_.

Remus wasn't exactly following him around like a duckling follows its mother, but every time Harry turned around, Remus seemed to be within his field of vision, and with the approaching full moon, emotions were running extra-high.

“Well, aren't you Mister Hot Stuff,” Tavish teased as he dropped down next to Harry at lunchtime.

Instead of eating, Harry was poring over a stack of perfectly dreadful essays, the spelling on them all so atrocious that he felt as though he might need a Translation Charm of some kind to decipher them. He lifted his gaze to his friend, who was grinning ear to ear, and cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you on about this time?” Harry asked, and instead of answering, Tavish nodded over his left shoulder to see Remus sitting away from everyone, watching Harry none-too-subtly. Harry groaned and rolled his eyes.

“It seems that he missed the memo,” Harry grumbled as he dropped his gaze back to the essays in his lap.

“What memo?”

“The one that says being stalked—or, in this case, _stared at—_ isn't really a turn-on for most people,” Harry huffed in frustration and slammed down his quill. “It's driving me mental. I wish he'd just take a hint and _go away._ ”

“What, you're not a fan of ridiculous personal drama?” Tavish teased, and snorted a laugh when Harry glared at him.

“Not as a rule,” he replied while he tried to ignore the feeling of Remus's eyes boring into him. “After what he put me through, he has some fucking nerve turning back up here, I swear...”

“Oh, don't be such a drama queen,” Tavish said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I don't know about you, but having _two_ handsome dominants on my tail instead of one...”

“Don't let Alpha hear you say that,” Harry shot back with a snort.

“Don't let me hear you say what?”

Harry's eyes shot up, and looming over the pair of them was Greyback, his suspicious gaze flitting from Tavish to Harry and back again. Harry looked at Tavish and arched an eyebrow, and his companion's eyes widened in a clear, silent message: _Harry, don't you dare._

“Tavish was just telling me how how he wishes his life was more like mine,” Harry explained, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth as his fellow sub flushed a deep red, “dramatic and chaotic and a right pain in the arse.”

“Hm,” Greyback grunted, and moved a hand to the back of Tavish's neck to give it a small squeeze. Greyback didn't say a word as a grin spread across Tavish's face, and he jumped up to follow the alpha— _his_ alpha—away.

Greyback's hand dropped to Tavish's buttocks as they moved, and Harry saw him grip it firmly and possessively as he all but dragged the sub back to his cabin. As Harry watched them go, he felt a sense of uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach as he looked on.

Despite the fact that logically he _knew_ that werewolves had their own culture, their own way of doing things that deviated from what a wizard might consider _normal_ , he still couldn't wrap his head around the concept of _willingly_ bending to a dominant's wishes at the drop of a hat in such a way. It didn't sit well with him, and the thought of doing so with _anyone_ made Harry feel immediately uneasy.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when the scent of a nearby dominant enveloped him, and he looked up to see an exhausted, but smiling Ulrich traipsing over to him.

“Hey,” Harry said with a small smile, and the dominant dropped down next to him, making a big show of drawing him into a kiss, as though he was well-aware that Remus was watching.

In a vain hope that such a thing might give Remus the hint that he had moved on, Harry welcomed it, and shifted even closer to the beta, the essays in his lap forgotten. “You look knackered,” Harry said, “what happened?” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Remus get up and storm off, and Harry watched his progression across the territory for a moment before he refocused his full attention on Ulrich.

“The rogue pack is upping their attempts at breaking our warding, and they're trying to draw Alpha out,” Ulrich explained softly, clearly not keen to be overheard, “all sorts of curses inlaid to our warding, so that if we removed them incorrectly the wards would dissolve. And we found another corpse—a child this time.”

“A _child_?” Harry asked, aghast, and Ulrich nodded solemnly.

“There...there wasn't much left, the poor thing was...” Ulrich's voice got rather croaky, and he trailed off, unable to continue. Harry reached for his hand, and offered it a small squeeze, while thoughts of what Tavish had told him about Ulrich's past came to the forefront of his mind, in particular how he had lost his mate and unborn child in one fell swoop. Harry had no idea what to say, but sat there quietly while he waited for Ulrich to collect himself.

“Are we in actual danger, I mean, is this rogue pack a real threat, or are they just blowing smoke?” Harry asked after a moment of silence, but Ulrich did not answer straightaway.

“We've been lulled into a false sense of security by these peaceful times,” Ulrich replied at last, again careful to keep his voice low, “I think we need to prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.”

His hand tensed in Harry's, and Harry shifted a little closer to the dominant while he wondered if he'd _ever_ get the peaceful life that he'd always dreamed of.

 

~*~

 

Despite the threat of possible invasion by another pack, Harry found himself unable to focus on it very much, given that he was wholly distracted by the new turn his life had taken, in the form of him being stuck in between two single-minded and possessive dominant werewolves.

When Harry was alone, Remus would edge towards him in an effort to talk, and Harry would give him the brushoff. Ulrich would scent Remus on Harry, and then storm over to the pack's new omega and share his feelings on the matter with him. Those encounters always left Remus badly bruised, but Ulrich was careful to never hurt him enough to cause permanent injury.

Harry turned away at these moments, caught between the unease he felt at seeing Remus hurt at the hands of someone he cared about, and the gentle reminder at the back of his mind that told him that this was how werewolves lived, and it was not his place to try and change that.

A very, very small part of him also felt that on some level, Remus deserved the bruises.

 

Remus's persistence in trying to interact with Harry sparked a new level of possessiveness in Ulrich, and the beta now often took to the task of keeping an eye on the submissives for an excuse to watch Harry and make sure that Remus kept his distance. In addition, he fetched all Harry's meals, and was more than a little clingy whenever Remus was around, and snapped like an angry dog if the other dominant got too close. It was maddening.

Harry should have known it would have come to a head, and it did so two just days before the full moon.

 

It was just past midday, and Harry had slipped away from the main bustle of the territory to the Sub House for a little time of quiet contemplation. Though he had been spending more and more nights in Ulrich's company, Harry hadn't exactly 'moved in' with him yet, and most of his belongings were still scattered around the bed that he'd claimed in the Sub House when he'd first arrived at the pack's territory.

Harry had intended to slip inside and think, predominantly about how he might convince Remus to leave him alone and move on with his life. He didn't like having him here; he wanted Remus to move on like he had, but in the same breath, he hated how the ideaof Remus with anyone else made him twinge with jealousy.

Harry eased down on the bedspread with a heavy sigh, but the combined stresses both werewolves had put on him wore heavily on his mind, and he quickly nodded off.

 

When Harry next woke it was twilight, and his stomach was rumbling in demand of food. He sat up with a soft groan as he ran a hand through his hair, but it did little other than make it stick up even more. Rubbing his eyes, he rolled off the bed and stepped out of the House, intent on finding Ulrich and some dinner, but instead nearly tripped over a person who had been sitting on the outside step of the Sub House, clearly waiting for him, and so happened to be the _last_ person that Harry wanted to see.

Harry jumped away from Remus as though he carried some sort of catching disease, but he wasn't quick enough, and his hand closed over Harry's gently. He immediately wrenched it out of Remus's grip.

“ _Don't_ touch me,” Harry growled, his lip curled back.

“Harry, please,” Remus pleaded, “I just want to talk.”

“Talk? _Talk?_ Remus, what is there to talk about? We're _over_ , I want you _out_ of my life. Why are you still even here?”

“I need to pay for what I've done,” Remus said hoarsely, “Harry, I'm so sorr—”

“ _Do not_ say you're sorry,” Harry growled, his voice cracking, “we're well beyond that now. How can you expect me to forgive you for all you've done to me? You'd need half a dozen lifetimes to even _begin_ making up for it all. Remus, please understand, I want you to stay _away_ from me. If you really are sorry, if you really care about me, you'll respect my wishes, and leave.”

Remus did not listen.

In a brazen move that Harry would never have expected, Remus swept forward and grabbed his wrists in a firm hold. Harry let out a soft cry before he could stop himself, his mind jerking back to _the incident,_ and panic began to blind him. He shook his head minutely and tried to focus, but it was difficult, and it took every ounce of strength that Harry had to stay present and not dissolve into bad memories. He glared at the older man, who leant in, but other than the hands at his wrists, he did not physically touch him.

“You are right that there is nothing I can do to truly make up for what I have done,” he whispered, his breath tickling across Harry's mouth softly, “but that doesn't mean that I won't try.”

Harry was frozen in fear, and he had no idea what to say. He was relieved from answering when a large hand closed around Remus's neck, and wrenched him away from Harry roughly.

“You get _the hell_ away from him,” Ulrich snarled as he threw Remus to the ground.

Remus groaned in pain as he landed hard, and Ulrich loomed over him, his eyes blazing in fury. He kicked Remus sharply in the stomach, and the omega grunted as he fell back to the ground in a heap. He did not look up or fight back, aside from his vocalizations of pain, he barely reacted to Ulrich at all.

“Get up! _Get up!_ ” Ulrich yelled, and Remus had made it halfway to a standing position before he was struck again, and he fell back into the dirt.

Harry watched the scene, frozen in shock, but when Remus tried to stand for the third time and Ulrich kicked him down again, Harry smelt and saw blood as Remus spat a mouthful to the ground. The sight of it snapped Harry out of his paralytic state, and he reacted.

“Stop!” Harry cried as he ran forward, but Ulrich ignored him. “Ulrich, stop it!” Harry tried to pull him back, but he could never hope to match a dominant werewolf in brute strength, and Ulrich batted him away like he was a mosquito. “Stop, you'll kill him!” Ulrich continued to ignore Harry, clearly well beyond reason as he bore down on Remus again. He looked up at Ulrich nervously, a thin trail of blood connecting the corner of his mouth to the edge of his jaw. He did not dare to meet Ulrich's eyes, and Harry saw fear in Remus's expression.

Harry circled them quickly, but he did not time it nearly as well as he could have, and when he jumped in between the pair, he let out a sharp yelp of pain as Ulrich's fist connected with his cheek, and Harry felt the bone crack as his legs buckled and he fell to the ground.

“ _Harry!_ ”

Harry couldn't tell who had cried his name, but just as quickly a pair of warm, strong arms enveloped him, and he was lifted off the ground.

“Oh, fuck, Harry, I'm so sorry.” Harry recognized the voice as Ulrich's, and the scent that now enveloped him was of Ulrich, and not Remus. Harry clung to his dominant as he was bounced and jostled in Ulrich's arms, but he was too disoriented by the pain to protest being carried somewhere.

Harry heard the door to Ulrich's cabin creak open and swing shut behind them, not long before he felt himself being laid down on something soft. He grimaced when he felt a wand tip press into his injured cheek, but did not protest it, given how horror-struck Ulrich still looked at accidentally hitting him like that.

“ _Episky!_ ”

_Crack!_

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ!” Harry cried with a yelp, and clapped a hand against his cheek.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

Harry looked up to Ulrich; the dominant's face was lined with worry, his eyes were wide with guilt over what he had accidentally done, and his face was a little flushed from the exertion of attacking Remus and carrying Harry home.

“I'll live,” Harry replied with a small grimace, his tone of voice reassuring as he offered his dominant a weak smile. As he gazed up at him, Harry's expression shifted to serious as he thought back to what had just transpired. “Have you calmed down at all?” he asked with an arched brow, and Ulrich looked away shamefully.

“Don't move, I'm going to have one of the pack Healers see to him,” Ulrich said in non-answer as he stood up, and Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. “I swear I won't hurt him again,” he replied in response to Harry's expression, while he lifted his hands in a motion of surrender. However, it seemed as though the idea of _not_ hurting Remus further was physically painful for him.

Still reeling from all that had happened, Harry nodded a little and watched Ulrich go, though his stomach churned uneasily, uncertain how genuine Ulrich's promises actually were.

 

It was less than ten minutes before Ulrich returned with a steaming bowl of stew and a hunk of crusty bread balanced in his hands, his expression carefully rendered blank. He stepped over to Harry hand handed him the food without a word.

“Thanks,” Harry replied as he accepted the bowl and stared down into it, but despite his earlier hunger, his appetite was now completely gone. “Now, what the hell happened?” he demanded, and Ulrich winced at his tone, “I've never seen...I mean...that was... _new_.”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Ulrich said as he sank down on the bed next to him, his head bowed, “I really am. I just...him being here makes me edgy, and when I saw...”

“You snapped,” Harry filled in, and Ulrich nodded meekly. “That doesn't make what you did okay, Ulrich, you could've killed him.” Ulrich frowned, but didn't immediately answer, and Harry filled in the silence while he regarded his courting partner. “I like having him here about as much as you do, you realize, but...you scared me back there.”

Harry set aside the uneaten food and he crawled across the scant foot of space between them to clamber into the dominant's lap. Harry braced his knees on either side of Ulrich's hips, while he draped his arms around his neck, and leant in for a gentle kiss, which Ulrich eagerly returned. His arms moved to tentatively curl around Harry's waist, as though afraid that at any moment, Harry might suddenly reject him.

“What did you think would happen, hm?” Harry asked rhetorically in between gentle kisses, “that Remus would sweep in and take me away from you, or I would play both of you at the same time? Do I really strike you as the unfaithful type?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Harry leant in and kissed him again. “I'm with you now. Remus hanging around won't change that. _But_ if you pull a stunt like that again, I don't know if I would be able to stay with you. You really frightened me, Ulrich.”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Ulrich said again; his voice was pained and his expression was unguarded and regretful. The sincerity rang through his words, and despite the combined shock and unease Harry felt at Ulrich's actions, he was more shaken still by Remus's brazen approach of him. It was close— _too close—_ to _the incident_.

Harry shivered at the memory of it, and Ulrich's arms tightened around him, drawing him closer.

“I really am,” Ulrich continued, his dark eyes wide and apologetic, “it's been a very long time since I've had anyone in my life...since I've _wanted_ anyone in my life. I don't want to lose you.”

Harry could all but hear the unspoken phrase of, _I don't want to lose you to him_ in Ulrich's tone.

Being the subject of some ridiculous werewolf version of a game of tug of war still irked Harry to no end, but at the moment, he genuinely had no idea how to address it. Instead, Harry leant in and kissed Ulrich again. The dominant's warmth washed over him as Ulrich held his submissive close, tightly, but gently, as though he were precious. It had been a very long time since Harry had felt so safe with someone like this.

“Contrary to popular belief, I _can_ take care of myself. I don't need you sweeping in like a knight in shining armour every time some cocky dominant makes a pass at me,” Harry said gently, his lips scant millimetres from the other man's, “ _but_ that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it. Just...where Remus is concerned, just ignore him, yeah? Beyond all the stuff between us, he was my dad and godfather's best friend...I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to him.”

“You're too good, Harry,” Ulrich whispered, “you are everything someone could want, and you extend kindness to people who don't even deserve it...why?”

“It's simple. I don't like seeing people hurt,” Harry explained in a similar tone of voice, “I don't care who they are or what they've done, there are some things that no huma—that no _person_ deserves.”

 

~*~

 

_Hermione,_

_Something's happened. I don't know if Ginny's told you, but Remus has come back to the territory, and he seems to have some sort of grand plan about making up to me everything that happened between us. I was just ignoring him and stuff, but...something happened. I need to talk to you._

_If you can come to the territory before the moon that'd be great, if not, we'll talk about it then._

_Harry_

 

Harry had sent off the note with the only post owl within the territory, and in less than twenty-four hours, just after they'd had dinner, Harry recognized a certain bushy-haired someone darting across the territory from its Apparition spot and making a beeline straight for him. The scent of an approaching dominant made Ulrich tense, but one glare from Harry was enough to quell his _protect_ instinct, and he backed off just as Hermione reached them.

She skidded to a halt, and lurched forward as though to embrace Harry as she always did, but hesitated at the last moment, her eyes darting to Ulrich, who had an arm draped over Harry in an obvious show of claim.

This close to the moon, Harry knew it was more instinct than common sense that was fuelling Ulrich's actions, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes at this behaviour. Harry wiggled out from under the dominant's arm and stepped forward to embrace Hermione, and she immediately hugged him back.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, and Harry almost laughed.

“No, I'm not. C'mon, let's go for a walk.”

Hermione glanced towards Ulrich uncertainly when they broke apart, but Harry ignored it as he grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her away from the others. He could feel a number of pairs of eyes boring into his back, but he ignored them, well-aware how it must look to them, a sub that was being courted wandering off with another dominant, but Tavish and Ulrich knew that they were just friends, and that was good enough for Harry.

When he was certain that they were out of earshot, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione beat him to it.

“So, what's all this about?” Hermione asked, careful to keep her voice low, “Ginny told me about the attack and Remus showing up and saving you both, but not much else.”

“Remus has decided that he's sorry, and wants to make it up to me,” Harry muttered, unable to keep the sneer out of his voice. “He's rejoined the pack as the omega, and keeps trying to catch me alone to _talk_.” The memory of the last encounter with Remus floated to the surface of his mind, and he shuddered. “The last time, it was...bad.”

Harry stuttered to a stop, and clenched his hands into fists in an effort to hide his shaking. No doubt Hermione could smell his fear, but it didn't stop him from trying to conceal it from her anyway.

“How bad, Harry?” she asked softly, and for a long moment, Harry didn't answer.

“Bad. Remus, he...he didn't exactly _do_ anything, but he...he made me think of... _the incident_. You know?” Hermione nodded, and he continued, “well, he just sort of said that he wasn't going anywhere, and was going to keep trying to make it up to me, and then Ulrich found us like that, and went ballistic.”

“Oh God,” Hermione whispered, and stared at him with wide eyes. “Is Remus even alive?”

“He's alive,” Harry confirmed, “I sort of...made the bad decision of trying to stop them myself and Ulrich hit me pretty hard by accident. After that he sort of calmed down and we talked. I mean, I can't decide how I feel about what happened, because werewolf culture is a bit...brutal, so I can't exactly _blame_ Ulrich for how he reacted, and part of me almost feels like Remus deserved it, after everything, but mostly, I feel kind of sickened that it had gotten so...so...out of hand, I guess.”

Hermione didn't answer verbally, and instead drew Harry into a tight hug. He returned it readily, and tried to ignore his newfound werewolf instincts, which were balking at this contact, when he was already being courted by Ulrich.

“Oh, Harry, I wish I knew what to tell you...” Hermione said sadly as she pulled back. “It's such a complicated situation, but it's good that you stopped Ulrich before it could go too far. Are you all right, though?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, Ulrich felt really awful about hurting me, and put me right almost at once. It's not like he knew I was gonna jump in front of Remus like that.”

“Still...” Hermione shifted her eyes from Harry over to the group, and Harry followed her gaze, catching sight of Remus. Even at a distance, Harry could see Ulrich shooting Remus a nasty glare. Harry supposed Remus could sense it or something, because he did not dare lift his gaze once.

“D'you want me to talk to him, at the full moon, I mean?” Hermione asked timidly, and immediately Harry shook his head.

“No. I don't want him to think I need to hide behind every other dominant in the pack. I can fight my own battles, Hermione.”

“I know you can, but—”

“— _no,_ ” Harry interrupted, breathing a little harder than was necessary as he tried to remain calm as he talked with his friend. “I can...I can do this. I _need_ to do this. Promise me you'll try and stay out of it?”

Hermione regarded him with a look of incredulity, as though he'd just proclaimed that he was going to slay a Hungarian Horntail with a Q-tip and an elastic band.

“Harry, are you sure...?” she asked uncertainly, and Harry snorted.

“No, I'm not,” he replied, and Hermione laughed. “I haven't a clue what I'm doing, but...please, stay out of it?”

“All right, fine. As long as it looks like your life is in no immediate danger, I'll leave it up to you,” she said with a small smile, “but, for the record, I think you're being even more stupid than usual.”

Harry offered her a helpless shrug and self-deprecating smile, but he did not answer. She shook her head at him, and together they made their way back over to the others, where Ulrich was waiting.

 


	10. Slipping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In my ridiculous need to please everyone, I said, fuck it, and decided to do both an early update and a companion piece. Enjoy, and thank you guys so, so, so, so much for following this fic, for keeping it going over this past year, you're all amazing. I also find it kind of amazing that this also coincides with the 20th Anniversary of the publication of _Philosopher's Stone_ so Happy Harry Potter Day, everyone!
> 
> We'll be back to a regular posting schedule of every Friday now, so you can expect the next update on June 30th. :)

Chapter Ten – Slipping

 

In the days preceding Harry's second full moon, Harry felt as though he was treading in much more familiar waters than he had before. Because he had been spending so much time with Ulrich recently, he was once again subject to all the delightful idiosyncrasies that came with it having a dominant werewolf for a significant other—in particular, their tendencies for a heightened sex drive.

Harry was far from the only sub to be dragged off by their mate or courting partner at this time, but it was still a bit of a strange concept for him—albeit a pleasant one nonetheless. Despite this, he did garner a sense of sick satisfaction from watching Remus break whatever he was holding when Ulrich came to him. Harry would not bother to hide his smile when he allowed Ulrich to sweep him away, and would wander back some time later looking decidedly well-shagged

Of course, as with many things, looks can be deceiving. Despite all appearances, he hadn't actually _done_ anything with his dominant yet, save for some very enthusiastic snogging and groping. Harry had yet to work out exactly how he felt about the snail's pace in which their physical relationship was going, because though he understood that Ulrich was doing it so as to not feel as though he was pushing Harry into anything, with the oncoming moon, it left Harry feeling less appreciative of his actions, and more blindingly frustrated.

 

The night before the full moon, just barely at dusk, Harry was chatting animatedly with some of his pupils, and let out a small grunt of surprise as Ulrich suddenly linked his arms around Harry's waist, and he tickled the side of the submissive's throat with his nose as he scented him.

The teenagers all giggled when Harry felt himself go very red, and without a word stood and followed Ulrich's lead away from the others.

In his peripheral vision, Harry saw Remus storm off in the opposite direction.

“You smell so good right now,” Ulrich growled, and nipped at his throat as they passed into the cabin. “The oncoming moon makes you smell...fuck, so good.”

Laughing a little, Harry turned in his arms and got up on his toes to kiss him. Ulrich pulled Harry flush against him, and he did not miss the distinctive, sizable bulge that pressed into his thigh. Harry knew that he needed to cool things off before they got too far, given that despite the impression he was determined to give his ex, he did not feel ready to go further, and he pressed both hands against Ulrich's chest as he broke the kiss.

“Remus, wait, I—” Harry cut himself off, the name slipping out before he even realized what he was saying, and his eyes widened with shock and horror at what he had said as at the same moment Ulrich's expression immediately flooded with hurt. His tight hold on Harry slackened a bit, and Harry felt his anguish at his crass mistake become even more pronounced.

“Oh, God, Ulrich, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—”

“—this was too soon, wasn't it?” Ulrich interrupted, his voice a little hoarse. “I approached you too soon, and you still...it was too soon.”

“No, no,” Harry said, his hold on the other man tightening when it seemed as though Ulrich was going to pull away. “It was a slip of the tongue, I swear, that's all. I _want_ to be with you, not him.”

Ulrich appeared as though he didn't wholly believe Harry, and regarded him with a wary, hurt look. Harry got up on his toes again, wrapped his arms around Ulrich's neck, and kissed him hard. The dominant's hold on him remained loose, and there was an unpleasant chill in the air that had nothing to do with the air temperature.

When the kiss ended, Ulrich pulled back and walked out of the cabin, his shoulders slumped.

Harry watched him go, a knot settling in the pit of his stomach, and he slid down the wall to settle in a position somewhere between sitting and a jumbled heap. Guilt gnawed at him, and he found himself once again at a loss for what to do.

He wanted Ulrich, he really did.

 _Then why did I say_ his _name?_ Harry wondered, and winced again at the memory of it.

 _I was with Remus for ages, then I practically jumped into a relationship with Ulrich_ , he thought, _it was just a slip of the tongue, that's all it was._

Harry got up and crossed the cabin to the bed, and lay down with a soft sigh. Ulrich's scent was comforting, like a hot cup of tea on a rainy day. He hugged one of the pillows to his chest and closed his eyes, while he prayed that Ulrich wouldn't kick him out when he came back after calming down.

 

Sometime later, Harry felt the distinctive shift of someone joining him on the bed, and he feigned sleep as Ulrich drew him close with a soft, sad sigh.

“I suppose I'm not the keeper of your heart, am I, Harry?”

The whispered rhetorical question was followed by another solemn sigh, and Harry shivered a little when he felt Ulrich's large hand run down the length of his body, as though mapping out the shape of him. Harry pressed his cheek against the man's bare chest and kept his eyes tightly shut. Ulrich folded Harry into his arms, and held onto him like a child would cling to a beloved toy, and Harry trembled as he tried to fight off the gnawing guilt at how one simple word could wedge them apart so effectively.

 

~*~

 

The following morning, Harry was the first to wake up.

In sleep, Ulrich looked incredibly peaceful; his dark brown hair was fanned over his sun-kissed shoulder, his strong jaw and his sharp features spoke of power even in his restful state. Once again, Harry felt a twist of guilt in his gut for what he had accidentally said.

 _He's been so good to me,_ Harry thought miserably, _how could I have said that?_

Harry reached forward, his fingers ghosting over the messy locks, and moved up his chest to his stubbled cheek, but did not actually touch him, and merely drank in the look of him. It still amazed Harry how much Ulrich had done for him, and how long he had waited to make a move—and how protective he was.

Ulrich's attack on Remus bloomed into his mind, and Harry shivered.

 _Is it wrong that I sort of feel like Remus deserves it?_ Harry wondered, his fingers dropping to Ulrich's hair again as he twisted a stray lock between his fingers, _when did I become so...vindictive?_

“Enjoying the view?”

The sudden voice made Harry jump a little, and he refocused his gaze on Ulrich, who was smirking at him in a confident, self-satisfied sort of way.

“Just thinking,” Harry replied with a small shrug.

“About us?” Ulrich asked, and Harry nodded. The dominant leant in and brushed his lips over Harry's, and Harry readily returned it, his whole body relaxing when he felt Ulrich curl an arm around him and pull him closer, revelling in the way the scent and feel of Ulrich enveloped him so completely.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Ulrich murmured, his breath tickling Harry's slightly damp lips. “For how I reacted, I mean. It's just...I care about you so much, and that...it hurt.”

“I didn't mean it,” Harry said at once, and winced at how juvenile that explanation sounded. “I really didn't. It was like...a muscle memory thing, you know? He's just on my mind a lot because of him being here is just...stressing me out.”

“That, I think, is sort of obvious,” Ulrich replied with a small chuckle. “Remus's presence here isn't easy for me, either,” he continued as his arms tensed around Harry possessively, “I know you two have history—a _lot_ of history. You were with him a long time, and he utterly fucked you up. Everyone could see it when you got here...you were so... _damaged._ You were nothing like the strong, confident person I'd met before.”

“I'm not _that_ strong,” Harry mumbled sheepishly as an embarrassed flush began to creep up his neck, “I just...I get lucky.”

“You're stronger than you know, Harry,” Ulrich said softly, a lifted a large hand to cradle Harry's cheek. “I think that's what endeared me to you in the first place. You never back down from a challenge; you never run away; you never sit idly by and wait for someone else to do something—you always do it yourself. And you refuse to give in to anyone or anything.” Ulrich paused, and leant in to kiss Harry once before he continued. “What Remus put you through would have broken a lesser man. But you...you survived it. I am in constant awe of you.”

Harry felt his face grow very warm, but instead of being given an opportunity to answer, Ulrich chuckled and drew Harry closer to him. Harry felt his breath catch a little as Ulrich kissed him deeply, and he lifted his hands to the dominant's chest, where they curled into fists, uncertain whether or not he wanted to stop him.

Ulrich's hands slid down Harry's back and moved to rest at his hips, toying with the fabric of the jeans that he'd slept in, and the action reminded Harry very much of a diver rocking back and forth on their toes as they prepared to jump. His desire seemed to win out, and Ulrich's hands slipped beneath the garment to cup Harry's arse, giving it a small squeeze.

Harry shivered, the rough hands feeling very much like Remus's had, and Harry swallowed a curse of frustration. He did not _want_ to be thinking of him, and especially not now.

In an effort to focus on the actual person that held him, Harry made sure to keep his eyes open as he focused on the scent of Ulrich, and how different it was from Remus's, and pressed his arse back into Ulrich's big hands.

With the Moon barely twelve hours away, Ulrich's control over his sexual desires was tenuous, at best, and the silent show of consent spurred Ulrich forward, and he devoured Harry's mouth with his own.

Harry arched himself up, pressing the length of his body into Ulrich's, and felt a distinctive—and alarmingly large—bulge pressing into his thigh.

 _Well, he's not beta for nothing..._ Harry thought dazedly, his breath catching as Ulrich withdrew his hands from Harry's jeans, and moved to the front of them to yank the buttons open. Harry, meanwhile, reached down to the front of the thin pants Ulrich had worn to bed, and gave the enormous cock a squeeze.

“Jesus, what d'you call that thing...The Bum Cleaver?” Harry asked before he could completely think through the words, and Ulrich snorted loudly.

“Wow, Harry, way to ruin the moment.”

“What, you mean that's not a compliment?” Harry asked with a grin, and Ulrich closed the distance between them again, leaning in to nip, kiss, and suckle at Harry's throat, eliciting a soft gasp from him, the attentions going straight to his groin.

“Not that I mind you complimenting my cock size,” Ulrich murmured before he trailed his tongue from the hollow of Harry's throat, up to his jaw, then along the edge of the bone until he came upon his lips, and kissed him lightly, “but I would never _cleave_ you. You'll take all of me, and you'll love it. No cleaving involved, I promise.”

“Hmm...but what if I _want_ to be cleaved?” Harry asked, arching his hips a little so that his own erection brushed against Ulrich's through the thin fabric of their undergarments, eliciting a small groan from him.

“Are you telling me that you like it rough?” Ulrich asked, the dominant werewolf trembling a little as Harry's wayward hand travelled down his front and fumbled until his cock was freed of its confines, and Harry closed his hand around it. Despite his teasing, he could not deny that Ulrich was _huge_. His hand was presently coiled around the middle of the shaft, and his thumb and middle fingers just _barely_ brushed together. When they did finally have sex, Harry was quite certain that he'd feel it for a week—minimum.

“I'm telling you I want to be able to feel you afterwards. If you're too gentle with me, I won't get my wish,” Harry replied, his mouth twitching onto a small grin as he began to stroke the length in his hand, and Ulrich tilted his head back as he groaned a little. Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but in place of words, a shuddering moan escaped him as Ulrich reached down, freed Harry's own cock from his pants, and ground his hips forward to rub their twin stiffys together.

Harry whimpered, and bowed his head forward a little as his hips twitched, lost in the pleasure that Ulrich was giving to him. The dominant held Harry close, his breathing ragged as his movements picked up. Harry let out a soft cry as he came first, and Ulrich a moment later with a soft, pleasure-filled grunt.

Ulrich immediately lifted his wand as if to clean up the mess, but Harry's hand on his wrist stopped him short.

“Allow me,” Harry said softly, and slid down the length of the bed before Ulrich could ask, and proceeded to clean up his and Ulrich's dual messes with his tongue.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Harry...” Ulrich moaned, and Harry grinned, his tongue flicking over Ulrich's hard abdomen, over his flaccid cock (which was quickly reasserting itself), and Harry was all too happy to close his mouth over the cock head, and tried to swallow the large member.

Harry found it a bit disappointing that he could barely fit one third of the thing in his mouth, much less his throat, and even relaxing and covertly rubbing at his throat wasn't quite enough to manage it, but if Ulrich's unsteady breathing and string of expletives were any indication, he didn't mind very much.

Harry bobbed his head awkwardly, his hand closed over the part of the shaft that he couldn't fit into his mouth, and continued to try and work more of the cock into his throat, with little success. His attentions were still enough to leach another orgasm from the dominant, and as Harry pulled back, making a crude _pop_ sound as he withdrew the softening cock from his mouth, he grinned up at Ulrich, looking as pleased as a cat with a bowl of cream.

“Bit of a come-slut, aren't you?” Ulrich purred, his smooth tone marred slightly by his heavy breathing. Before Harry could respond to the rhetorical question however, Ulrich slid down just as Harry had, and mirrored his actions enthusiastically.

Unlike Harry, Ulrich had no problem swallowing Harry to the root, hollowed his cheeks and sent Harry spiralling into a pleasure-filled oblivion. His hips jerked weakly into Ulrich's mouth, as Ulrich lifted one of his hands to toy with Harry's balls. This small move was Harry's undoing, and came with a sharp cry.

Harry lay back in an awkward spreadeagled position as Ulrich pulled back and crawled up his form with a grin on his face. He blanketed Harry's body with his own, and kissed him lightly.

“Come on,” Ulrich murmured against Harry's mouth, “after that, we're both gonna need a bath.”

“I dunno...” Harry replied with a fatigued, impish grin, “I kinda like the idea of wandering around the territory reeking of you.”

“Is this about reminding a certain someone to whom you belong?” Ulrich asked as he arched a brow, and Harry felt himself flush, though he wasn't certain whether that was because of how transparent he was, or Ulrich's phrasing.

“Maybe...” Harry replied as he looked away from him, “...does that make me an awful person?”

“I'm not sure you're _capable_ of being an awful person, Harry,” Ulrich said as he chuckled, “more like...fed up of repeating yourself?” Ulrich drew Harry's attention back to him with a kiss. “Besides, even with a bath, today of all days it'll be pretty obvious what we've been up to; everyone's senses are heightened so they'll all be able to smell it. If you come bathe with me it'll just be...it won't be as strong.”

The hint behind the words of _bathe with me_ hung in the air between them, and Harry could already feel his cock stirring again. Harry grinned and Ulrich mirrored the expression; in a flash, they were up and hurrying towards the bath at the back of his cabin.

 

~*~

 

“Smells like _someone_ had a good morning,” Tavish teased as Harry wandered towards the breakfast circle, and he grinned sheepishly.

“Is it that obvious?” Harry asked, and his friend grinned.

“Even if you weren't wearing our fair beta's scent like a cologne, the look on your face says it all,” Tavish said with a grin, and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “C'mon, food, then I want to hear _every_ dirty detail.”

Tavish steered him towards the food tent, and Harry kept his eyes forward as they walked, forcing himself to ignore Remus as he passed him by, and the stricken, heartbroken look he saw cross the older man's face when he caught wind of the scent that clung to Harry's flesh.

 _He deserves it,_ Harry thought as he swallowed thickly and accepted a bowl of cooked meats and roasted potatoes from one of the subs in the tent, and refused to acknowledge that niggling sense of guilt that had surfaced at the back of his mind as he followed Tavish to a spot away from the others before he began to press him for the details of his morning.

“So, spill,” Tavish said thickly around a mouthful of potato, he reminding Harry in that moment of a brunet and werewolf version of Ron. “What'd you do? What'd _he_ do? 'Cause it's obvious that you haven't done _it_ yet.”

“How d'you mean it's _obvious_ that we haven't fucked yet?” Harry asked, blurting out the question before he could really think it through, and he felt his face colour a little. Tavish grinned.

“One, because we'd all be able to smell it. And two, because you're walking normally. No one has the bollocks to admit it, but Ulrich is sort of known as being even bigger than...” Tavish trailed off, and jerked his head minutely in the direction of the alpha. Harry dropped his fork.

“No _way._ Seriously?”

“Yep,” Tavish replied with a grin, while Harry picked his form back up. “But, of course, no one is stupid enough to say it out loud. Except me, apparently.”

“Yeah, well, as the alpha's consort you could probably get away with it...unless you're looking for excuses to make the alpha _punish_ you.”

“God,” Tavish said as he snorted, “we've definitely had a bad influence on you. You were never this crude when you came to us two months ago.”

“Er, thanks? I think?” Harry asked, and the pair laughed.

“You're welcome!” Tavish chirped, and Harry grinned.

 

Harry passed the day alternating between wandering around on his own and spending his time with either Tavish or Ulrich. The kids were far too excited by the impending moon to sit down and study with Harry, and he had given up trying to make them sit still after about fifteen minutes, when it became obvious that it was something of a lost cause. On his alone time, Harry was always careful to stay in plain view of the rest of the pack; he wasn't ignorant to the hungry look that Remus carried when he looked at him. It was both angry and sad, and Harry was sure that this close to the full moon, if Remus caught him alone, there was no telling what he might do.

“Don't be so dramatic,” Tavish said with a dismissive wave of his hand over dinner when Harry shared his worries with the fellow sub. “Doms can be pigheaded around the Moon, but they aren't blind slaves to their desires. If he consciously _wanted_ to do something like that to you, he would do it. But I would hope his moral code is above that of a sex-crazed beast.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied distantly as he shifted his gaze to Remus, sitting alone and patiently waiting for the others to finish eating before he got up for his share, “sometimes I wonder.”

 

~*~

 

As evening began to draw closer, Harry, upon catching sight of Ulrich returning from his rounds, hurried over to the dominant, grabbed his hand, and gave it a small tug.

“C'mon, I need to talk to you before Hermione gets here,” he said, and Ulrich followed him willingly.

“I need to talk to you too, so that's fine,” Ulrich replied as they moved, and the pair fell into silence until they'd reached Ulrich's cabin and slipped inside.

“You see—”

“About tonight—”

Both men had started speaking at the same time, and they both broke off with a laugh.

“Go ahead, Harry,” Ulrich said, “you first.”

“Well, the thing is, Hermione's coming back to the territory tonight for the moon, and she's a dominant, but she has this—er, habit, I guess, of sort of tackle-hugging me, and I was just, er, worried that you might misinterpret that as a claim or something, when it's just sort of...how she is.”

Ulrich smiled warmly, but it was different than his usual smiles that he directed at Harry. This one seemed a little bit different, like he was a little puppy who had done something cute and funny, though Harry wasn't sure if he should be offended or not by the expression he saw there.

“We all remember last moon,” Ulrich replied with a note of reassurance in his voice, “a few of the older subs panicked when she launched herself at you, but we all sort of knew that it was a friends thing, and that we didn't need to worry.” Ulrich paused, his expression shifting to thoughtful, and he reached down to squeeze Harry's hand. “I'm not completely sure how I'll be with you after moonrise, though”

“How d'you mean?”

“Well, we're still courting,” Ulrich explained, “we're not a mated pair. Because of that, in their wolf state some other dominants may feel like you're fair game, and try to court you.” He grimaced, and his hand tightened over Harry's. He had a feeling that when Ulrich had said _some other dominants,_ what he really meant was _Remus._ “Because of that, well...I know that you don't like the dominant and submissive dynamics within the pack, but I beg you, Harry, to please stay close to me tonight. It's for your safety, no other reason.”

The request was a weighted one for Harry. The concept of allowing himself to be dominated in any capacity still did not sit well with him, and Ulrich's timid request had successfully tied his stomach in knots. Logically, he knew that Ulrich would never ask this of him without a genuine reason, not just to exert his power, but still he balked at it.

“I'll—I'll _try_. Ulrich, I know you mean well, but...it's still hard for me,” Harry replied, and Ulrich smiled warmly.

“After what you've been through, I'd be more concerned if you were completely accepting to it,” Ulrich said, and brushed a soft kiss against Harry's temple, then his lips. “I promise I won't go...overboard, I believe is the term.”

Harry shifted his hand in Ulrich's and gave it a small squeeze.

“I trust you.”

 


	11. Jaws Locked

Chapter Eleven – Jaws Locked

 

As Harry had predicted, he did not see Hermione coming, and just as suddenly he was on his back, and his vision was impeded by a sea of bushy brown hair.

He heard Tavish's low murmur of reassurance to the beta, who likely had begun to panic at Hermione's pseudo-assault but Harry was too focused on his friend to offer up his own words of support to his courting partner—in particular how she was crushing his windpipe with the strength of her hug.

“Hermione—can't—breathe—” Harry choked out, and with a small yelp, she let him go.

“Oh, sorry, Harry!” she cried as she grabbed his forearm and tugged him to his feet smoothly, as though he weighed no more than Pekingese. “I forgot...are you all right?”

“Fine,” he rasped, “just...try to remember that your a little bit stronger than me, now.”

“And Ron,” she added with a small grin, and Harry raised his eyebrows.

“Oh God, what did you do?”

Smirking a little, Hermione dug into her robes and produced a slightly creased wizarding photograph, which displayed Hermione at the Burrow, grinning from ear to ear as she held Ron up over her head. His best mate looked to be yelling at his fiancée and whomever was handling the camera while he flailed in her grip, but apparently couldn't get down.

“Ginny helped me take it,” Hermione explained with a giggle as she tucked it back into her robes, “he wasn't exactly impressed with us.”

“I'll bet,” Harry replied with a snort, “walk? And we can catch up?”

Hermione looked over to Ulrich uncertainly, as though asking for his permission, and he nodded stiffly.

Keen to keep Ulrich's jealousy in check, Harry pecked him on the lips once before he turned to join his friend, and they meandered towards the edge of the treeline before either of them spoke. Like at the last moon, Harry noted how his werewolf instincts seemed to be humming just beneath the surface of his skin, clearly uneasy that he was near to a dominant werewolf, though this time because Ulrich wasn't nearby. Harry forced himself to ignore it—this was Hermione, after all, not some random dominant who wanted to ravish him at the earliest opportunity.

As they walked, Harry also couldn't help but note how _different_ Hermione looked, and yet at the same time, she looked exactly the same.

Hermione was wearing a set of violet robes that he'd seen her in over a dozen times, but they were tighter than before—and not from fat. Her muscle definition was a little envious, and the scent of _dominant_ that she exuded just added to the overall aura of strength around her now. Harry didn't like how instead of being proud of her for this, the overall impression on his submissive instincts made him nervous, despite the near-constant loop of _this is Hermione, not some random dominant,_ that ran through his head.

“How are things with you and Ron?” Harry asked conversationally in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts, “any progress with...what you told me at the last moon?”

Hermione did not answer straightaway, and her gaze flitted from him to Jade and the other pregnant females. The sudden anguished and envious look in her eyes told Harry everything that he needed to know.

“Things with Ron are fine—the same. I think he's a little self-conscious about how I'm sort of stronger than him now—”

“— _sort of,”_ Harry cut in with a snicker.

“—shut up.” Hermione smiled, “anyway, I think he feels bad about it, so he hasn't really said anything, but I can tell, you know?” Harry nodded his head once, and she continued, her tone troubled as she dropped her gaze to the ground. “And...no change, yet.”

Hermione's entire demeanour changed in that instance—her shoulders slumped, and her eyes gained a faraway, glassy look, and it was as though someone had suddenly placed a ten-ton weight against her back. “Ron says he doesn't mind—there's still so many war orphans that need a home, but...”

“...but you want it,” Harry finished for her, and she nodded.

Harry had no idea how to console her, or what he could possibly say to make her feel any better about the situation, and instead, whilst ignoring his protesting werewolf instincts, he pulled Hermione into a tight hug.

Immediately, his best friend's breath hitched, and a tiny sob escaped her as she hugged him back. Harry rubbed her back as she wept, holding onto him a little too tightly, while he tried to ignore both his submissive instincts positively _screaming_ at him for having an unmated dominant so close, and the twin sets of eyes that seemed to be boring into him, both Ulrich's—and Remus's.

“S-sorry, Harry,” she sniffled as she pulled back, and roughly wiped at her eyes, “I just—I'm sorry.”

“Hey, it's okay,” Harry said reassuringly, and pulled her in for another hug, “Hermione, it's something you _really_ wanted, and it's tough—I can't even _imagine_ how tough. So you cry all you want, all right?”

Offering her friend a watery smile, she nodded.

 

Following their shared emotional moment, Hermione filled Harry in on the other new turns her life had taken. She told him how she had requested a transfer from her position with the Unspeakables to the _Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_ office, to debating with Molly over colour schemes for her wedding, to Ron spending a lot of time with George in Harry's absence, which made his stomach twist with guilt. When she'd finished, Harry took his turn, his eyes flitting back to Ulrich as he spoke.

“Things are going...well,” Harry said, and felt his face grow warm at how wistful he sounded. Hermione giggled.

“Define _well_?” she prompted, and Harry grinned a little.

“Well, our activities together lately have caused Remus to break whatever he's holding when he sees us, so...”

“Oh, Harry, you're not deliberately antagonizing him, are you?” Harry turned back to face Hermione, and her expression had shifted to an almost maternal concern.

“No, of course not,” Harry said at once, his eyes wide. But even as he said it, he easily recalled the feelings of deep satisfaction that he felt every time Remus cast his heartbroken gaze their way. “I mean, not _really,_ ” he paused again as he thought of how to best explain it to her, and his gaze once more flitted back to the werewolves congregated in the main area of the territory, and his eyes easily picked out Remus. He was sitting a little off to the side, alone as always, his form still bigger and stronger than it had ever been while he was with Harry, but it had begun to show the hallmarks of his lack of access to full proper meals, and his cardigan hung off him a little more loosely than it used to.

“It just feels nice to be able to give Remus back a taste of what he put me through, that's all,” Harry said at last, and forced his gaze away from the pack's omega, and back to Hermione. “Is that wrong?”

“Yes it is, Harry,” she replied at once, but she was smiling sadly at him, instead of frowning. “But I also understand why you feel that way. Just...don't push him too much; if he snaps...you may not want to get caught in between Remus and Ulrich...again.”

 

~*~

 

After Harry and Hermione's private catchup, they rejoined the others, just as they had last time, but this time with the inclusion of Ulrich.

In the presence of an unmated (by werewolf standards, at least) dominant and the impending moon, Ulrich's acceptance of the situation was stretched to the breaking point. Harry was doing his best to calm his dominant as a result, and thus found himself perched on the edge of the log bench, with Ulrich sitting behind him, and his longer legs pressed against the outside of his legs.

Being between Ulrich's legs like this felt more comfortable than sitting in his lap, but it still felt very strange to have his boyfriend (which was a bit of a weird epithet to apply to Ulrich, but Harry had no idea what else he could call him) draped all over him like this in front of his friends. Hermione eyed Ulrich uncertainly, more from his attitude than anything else, but she seemed to at least partially understand why he was doing what he was doing, and offered up no word of protest.

At the same time, Hermione began to grill Ulrich on every tiny detail of his life, his personality, and everything in between. Her words were continually punctuated with idle threats, indicating that if Ulrich in any way hurt Harry, she'd personally curse his bollocks off.

“I promise, Hermione,” Ulrich said repeatedly with laughter in his voice, “you don't need to worry, I have no intention of hurting Harry.”

“Yeah, well, neither did R—” Harry glared at her, and she clamped her mouth shut at once. Ulrich's arms tensed around Harry, and they quickly descended into an awkward silence. Harry rested his hands over Ulrich's in an attempt to silently reassure him, though he was uncertain how much it actually helped.

“Well, I'm starving,” Tavish said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence, “dinner, anyone?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, though he didn't exactly feel very hungry at the moment. “Sounds good.”

 

At dinner, Harry and Tavish were given their normal portion sizes, while Hermione and Ulrich's were close to tripled. It reminded Harry strongly of their fourth year, when Hermione was researching Elf Rights, and had taken to shovelling food into her mouth at breakneck speed so that she could spend their breaks in the library. She seemed wholly unaware of how fast or how much she was eating, too caught up chatting with Tavish and Ulrich to pay it much mind, while Harry looked on quietly. He also noticed that she was careful to sit a little farther from Tavish than Ulrich, though the reason for this was painfully obvious.

Across the circle, sitting and eating with Adina, Greyback was glaring suspiciously at Hermione. Though logically the alpha would know that Hermione had no interest in his sub, but so close to moonrise his mind was more animal than man, and could not make the distinction as clearly. To some extent, Hermione seemed to understand this, and thus was careful to both keep her distance and not touch Tavish directly, which Harry thought was a very wise move on her part.

Hermione's amiable mood dimmed somewhat when she finally caught sight of Remus, however.

“Harry?” she asked timidly, drawing his attention from the other two werewolves and to her, her tone shifting from neutral to uncertain.

“Yeah?”

“Why isn't Remus eating?” she asked while she nodded towards the other dominant, who was sitting off to one side, alone, as always.

“Pack rules,” Harry explained softly, “since he's the omega, he isn't allowed to eat until everyone else has finished.”

“But—but that's _awful!_ What about all that bollocks Greyback was spouting about how he takes care of those he turns?” she sputtered angrily, “that's not _care_! That's neglect! Harry, look at him, he's already lost so much weight, how can you just—”

“—shut up,” Harry hissed, and to his surprise, her jaw snapped shut. Her angry stare did not fade, however. Harry found himself rather shocked at her outburst, especially given that since Hermione was so knowledgeable about pretty much everything, he had no idea how she did not know about this aspect of the culture. When her alarmed expression did not change, Harry quickly launched into an explanation.

“Hermione, look,” Harry began again, well aware that Ulrich was listening in, despite his feigned conversation with Tavish, “this is just...how it is. Werewolf culture isn't wizard culture, there are different rules. Remus asked to come out here as omega in some twisted attempt at getting back with me, or paying his dues for what happened, I'm not really sure. He's hardly lost _that_ much weight, it's not like Alpha would let him starve to death. It's just...how it is.”

“Harry, what happened to you?” Hermione asked, her tone laced with concern as she frowned at him. Harry blinked and stared back at her, mildly startled by the sudden question.

“What d'you mean?” he asked, and her frown deepened.

“You weren't like this before,” she explained, “you were never one to just _accept_ that things were the way they were, you always fought. What happened? Why are you so content to just sit back and...let it happen?”

Harry did not answer her straightaway, but eased back in his seat, his eyes fixed on the crackling bonfire. His gaze flicked briefly to Remus, who had gotten up and finally accepted his share of the evening meal, then looked back at the fire.

“As terrible as it sounds,” Harry began, “part of me feels like he deserves it,” he said, and picked up a twig near the ground, fingering it for a moment before he pitched it into the flames. “He put me though absolute hell, I had to sacrifice _so much_ to be with him, and just when things were starting to be just...so...so _wonderful_ , his own issues—his unwillingness to deal with things properly just destroyed everything. So, yeah, I feel like he deserves what he's getting now. I just wish he was somewhere _else._ ” Harry paused as he gritted his teeth, his anger at the whole situation flaring in him again. Ulrich, apparently sensing his mood, snaked an arm around his waist, but did not interrupt their conversation.

“The other part of it is that it's a different kind of culture out here, Hermione,” Harry said, repeating the point again in the hopes that maybe this time the words might sink in with her. “They— _we_ solve problems with teeth first, words second. Maybe I'm just tired of fighting, I don't know, but I just have no desire to kick up a fuss anymore. I want to live in peace. I have a place here; it's maybe not what I would have initially chosen, but I have a place that's mine. I'm needed, I'm...” Harry trailed off and shook his head. “You're not here all the time, Hermione, so I don't think you really should be jumping to conclusions.”

Harry looked back towards her, expecting to see some sort of expression of understanding in her eyes, but instead Hermione looked as though Harry had slapped her.

“Fine,” she said, her voice shaking a little, though she sounded more hurt than angry. “But the Harry Potter I thought I knew would _never_ be this vindictive, no matter what. I think you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Without another word, Hermione stood up and stalked across the area, and to Harry's complete surprise, she sat next to Remus and began talking with him.

Harry stared in shock for a long moment, then, swallowing the strange, niggling sense of betrayal, he turned back to Tavish and Ulrich. Ulrich tightened his arm around him, and Tavish offered him a small smile.

“You did well, Harry,” Ulrich said softly, then pressed a kiss to his temple, “don't let her attitude make you feel guilty.”

Harry grunted and leant into the embrace, but didn't answer.

 

~*~

 

As the sun bowed his head to the moon, a collective thrum of excitement hung over the territory, and Harry followed Tavish mechanically to where the other subs had congregated, all of them trying to keep the excited children from scampering off before the change came.

Hermione had stayed with Remus for the rest of the evening, all the while shooting glares at Harry, and he felt a hot sort of sense of betrayal at her attitude, though he had no idea how to address it.

“She'll get over it,” Tavish said reassuringly as Harry caught up with him, and he offered Harry a small smile. “She's only been in the territory a couple of times, she'll be slower than you in getting used to how things work around here.”  
  
“Don't bet on it,” Harry grumbled as shuffled off to one side and began to shed his clothes, still a little uneasy about being naked in front of the others. Tavish followed him, but he let Harry have his privacy, and merely leant against the side of the tree that Harry hid behind. “She's got this track record of forcing her opinions on others when she thinks she knows better or something. I can't see her getting over this at all.”

If Tavish had been preparing a response it never came, and an instant later, Harry understood why.

The change came suddenly, much more quickly than at his first moon, and Harry grunted as he fell to his knees, and pain lanced through every part of him as his flesh grew, ripped, and he transformed.

Harry felt as though the change was a little easier this time, despite the suddenness of it, and when he stood back up and shook himself, he felt none of the painful aftershocks that he had felt at the last moon. Beyond his tree, he could hear the soft stirring of the pack, and Harry turned to slip out from his hiding spot.

Harry immediately nearly collided with Tavish, and just like last time, Harry felt a panicked sort of unease at how small he was compared to many of the other subs in the pack. Tavish butted his head against Harry's cheek affectionately, his way of showing him that he meant no harm, and Harry's tail lifted a little as he relaxed, but he could not help but still feel a little nervous.

Across the territory, Harry could see a large, tawny and grey dominant before Alpha on his back, exposing his belly and throat to the much larger wolf. Harry's wolf mind recognized this new wolf as pack, but his presence also made him uneasy, and Harry felt a sudden compulsion to hide from this newcomer, though in his current form, he could not articulate why.

Alpha accepted him readily, and slowly the dominants began to spread out, while Harry tried to shift closer to his companion, but he had already begun to trot towards Alpha, leaving Harry alone and exposed.

Thankfully, a dark, dusky grey dominant that he recognized at once had begun to approach Harry, and his scent was calming—familiar. Harry moved to step towards him, when suddenly a solid wall of unfamiliar fur blocked his way.

Harry yipped indignantly, the new dominant blocking his path to the beta, and snapped at the dominant before he could think better of it, but the tawny-grey wolf ignored him completely.

Beyond the new wolf, he heard his courting partner growl. Harry stepped back, and not a moment too soon, as in that instant the two wolves lunged at each other, teeth bared.

Harry yet out a high whine as the two dominants became a blur of differently coloured fur, and he hurried forward in an effort to break up the fighting wolves, but he was stopped almost at once by a set of teeth sinking into the scruff of his neck.

It wasn't even hard enough to bruise, but it pulled another yelp from Harry as he struggled against the hold. He could smell that it was the alpha that had stopped him, and he yanked on Harry hard, dragging him away from the two dominants, then dropped him and stood in front of Harry in a clear message— _do not interfere_.

Harry continued to whine as he paced back and forth before Alpha, who was watching him with keen, narrowed eyes. He didn't try to bolt past the larger wolf, and he was so large that Harry couldn't see what was happening. The snarling, interspersed with the occasional pained yelp, combined with the sharp, metallic tang of blood on the air did little to calm Harry's nerves.

It was less than two minutes before Alpha stepped aside, and Harry saw his courting mate standing over the new wolf— _Moony,_ the human part of his mind supplied suddenly—panting hard, while the omega exposed his belly to the other wolf.

Ulrich looked up and caught sight of his courting mate. Harry took a few uncertain steps forward, his ears flattened against his head as he regarded the dominant, but Ulrich let out a low, rumbling growl closer to a purr, and the dominant closed the distance between them in two strides of his long legs. He butted his head against Harry affectionately, a gesture which Harry immediately returned, his tail raising a little as his anxiety receded.

Moving on instinct, Harry scented his dominant, and sought out the minor wounds. Scratches on his flanks, a nasty bite mark on his shoulder, and his muzzle was very bloody, but the scents were too confused for Harry to tell whether the blood there belonged to Ulrich or Moony.

Harry butted his head lightly against Ulrich's side and the larger wolf huffed, allowing himself to be ushered away by the sub, and lay down to let Harry tend to his wounds.

It felt so natural to Harry to tend to his courting partner in this way, and the sharp tang of blood on his tongue, though unpleasant, also made Harry feel a little giddy. It felt so _right—_ instinctual, even.

While Harry worked, the other dominants had gone off to hunt, and as he had finished, the dominants had already returned, dragging two does and a stag behind them.

The huge meal available was thrilling to Harry, and after Alpha and his mates ate, Harry was able to eat with the others much more comfortably this time around—a benefit of having the protection of the beta wolf at his side, he was thankfully not excluded from the meal.

Full and comfortable, Harry was getting ready to go off with his courting mate and sleep, when a high, keening cry cut through the peaceful quiet of the territory.

Harry jerked up, his ears perked high, and he smelt it immediately.

One of the pregnant subs had gone into labour.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than I would have liked, but I hope you guys enjoyed it all the same :) Next update will be July 7th. See you all then!


	12. Culture Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I believe it goes without saying that there will be some graphic birth scenes in this chapter. I tried to keep it from getting -too- gross, however. Next update will be July 14th :)

Chapter Twelve – Culture Shock

 

Harry got up to investigate the sound of the sub who had gone into labour, but Ulrich hung back. Like with Harry's compulsion to clean his courting mate, he instinctively knew that Ulrich's presence would not be welcomed near to the birthing sub, and was therefore not distressed when Ulrich did not keep close to him.

Harry joined the other subs that had circled Jade. She lay on her side, panting softly, while a string of soft whines escaped her. The sounds seemed to be a mixture of pain and fear, but alternatively, she did not seem distressed by the presence of the others around her, and instead seemed to be comforted by them.

 

Adina approached Jade first, while Harry hung back with Tavish, who had just joined the throng of subs encircling Jade. The elder werewolf lay down next to her and licked her ears, as though trying to comfort her. She whimpered softly, but Harry's attention was suddenly drawn from her by the encroaching scent of the nearby dominants.

Tavish seemed to sense it too, and the pair of them turned to see a number of curious unmated dominants approaching them.

In spite of his small stature, Harry's lip curled back as he growled at the dominants. His warning vocalization was echoed by Tavish, as well as a number of the other subs. He puffed himself up as he growled again as Alpha joined the dominants. However, instead of joining the dominants in their approach, the alpha instead defused the tense situation before it could really start. He snapped at the other dominants, and quickly shooed them all away before backing off himself.

Harry watched as Alpha moved a respectful distance away from the subs, but he, along with Ulrich were indeed several feet closer, and paced along the expanse of the territory, snapping at any other dominant that got too close to the subs. Harry turned back to Jade, his head cocked to the side a little as he watched a number of the other females go to help her, while Harry and Tavish stayed back, present with all the other unmated subs, but well-aware that there was little they could do for her.

 

It was another two hours of silent waiting before anything at all seemed to happen, when Jade suddenly let out a small whine. Harry's ears perked up and his nostrils flared as a new smell rent the air, and he straightened up to see a dark, rounded thing begin to crown at the base of her tail, and after several long minutes of pushing, paired with Jade's continual soft huffs of pain, the sac was free, and Adina quickly circled Jade to bite through it to free the pup and cut the umbilical cord with her teeth, then picked it up and carried it to Jade, who promptly began to clean the tiny thing off.

Harry was enraptured by the sight, and even in a form where the mind was simpler, spurred by instinct, rather than rational thought, he could still feel his heart beating faster, and a swell of emotion overwhelmed him as the newest member of their pack let out a tiny, squeaking bark.

Jade rested with her pup, and after half an hour, with all the subs still encircling her, it began again, and another small pup was born, this one as black as the first, but once Jade had cleaned it off, Harry saw its fur to be closer to a dark brown. She nuzzled the two tiny puppies lovingly, and rested again before she braced herself for her third.

 

It continued well into the wee hours of the morning, until at last her fourth and final pup was birthed, and the subs howled their welcome, closely joined by the dominants, though they still did not dare approach.

The four new lives let out several tiny squeaks as their mother tended to them, and the other subs closed in around her as the sky above them shifted from black to a deep indigo. When they transformed back into human forms, they would need the added warmth that their bodies would provide.

Harry joined the others, though he felt somewhat torn at the same time. Ulrich was sitting back and watching him, and Harry wanted to go to him. At the same time however, he felt a deep sense of _protect_ towards Jade and her pups.

Ulrich inclined his head once, and lay down. Harry looked from his dominant to Tavish and the others, and back again.

Tavish, apparently sensing his inner conflict, lowered his head and butted Harry gently in the direction of his dom. He hesitated again, and Jade offered him a soft, exhausted yip from the centre of the puppy pile. Harry recognized the assent at once, and he quickly hurried over to Ulrich, and burrowed into the dominant's side.

Ulrich huffed and perched his head on top of Harry's lithe wolf form, and the small submissive, exhausted after the night's flurry of activity, was asleep before his transformation back to human had even begun.

 

~*~

 

Harry was roused earlier than he would have liked by the sound of four distinct, infantile cries.

He groaned and sat up a little, his lithe form almost lost under Ulrich's much larger frame. The puppy pile of submissives was stirring, and the women closest to Jade had helped her take the four squalling infants, and they were all cooing over them.

It was a little strange for Harry to see, given that he was still wholly unused to the werewolves' different views on nudity, and they seemed to have no issue in sitting around and nursing the children while completely starkers. From where he lay, Harry could see a few of other breastfeeding mothers had come forward, and with Jade's ready nod of permission they each took a newborn and began to feed them.

The dominant werewolves, who had also begun to stir, did not dawdle that morning, and instead jumped up and began by bringing the submissives clothing, as well as swaddling blankets and clothes for the babies. They still kept their distance, the male subs hanging on the edges of the group, and making sure the dominants did not break into their protective pile of bodies. Harry watched in quiet amazement how even Greyback did not dare get too close, and stayed a good ten feet back from them as Tavish got up, still naked, and strode across the space in order to speak to his alpha.

Everyone understood that Jade and her pups needed to feel safe, and the dominants all respected that, and did not seem to feel that their ego was being bruised by doing so.

All—but one.

“Oh!” Hermione let out a soft coo when she saw the children being cradled in the sea of bodies, and after she'd dressed she rushed forward.

Ulrich released Harry at the same moment that he began to move, and for the moment unaware of his nudity, he rushed forward to come between Hermione and the submissives. In his peripheral vision, he saw Jade's hold on one of the infants relax a little, and the wet nurses quickly passed the other pups to their mother, who somehow held onto all four at once while she regarded Hermione nervously.

“Hermione, _don't_ ,” Harry said firmly, his arms spread wide and his attention refocused solely on his friend. She skidded to a halt, and to his words, a look of utter confusion crossed her face.

“Don't what, Harry? I just want to see the babies,” she said crossly, “I'm allowed to at least _hold_ one, even if I can't...” she trailed off and shook her head, but Harry could hear the insincerity ringing through her voice. He could tell that she was trying to guilt him in to letting her pass, but Harry stood firm.

“No, you're not,” he answered, and he tried to ignore how her confusion shifted to genuine hurt.

“What do you mean I'm _not_?” she demanded, and Harry winced at her shrill tone.

“He means that for the first few weeks, the mother and her pups cannot be handled by any of the dominants,” Ulrich explained kindly as he approached, and handed Harry a pile of clothes, which he accepted gratefully and tugged them on while Ulrich took over explaining. In truth, Harry did not know _why_ Hermione wasn't allowed, but something inside had told him that he could not let Hermione near the subs at the moment.

“The mother needs to feel completely comfortable, she is just as fragile now as she was when she was pregnant,” Ulrich continued, “we as dominants, while we are protectors of the pack and intend no harm to the mother or the pups, our powerful, domineering energies can make the submissives nervous, and on occasion a mother has killed her pups in a panic, especially if she feels threatened. The other subs stay near to her as something of a shield of bodies to block the mother from the dominants.”

“That's ridiculous,” Hermione sniped, “I'm a _woman_ , not some testosterone-fuelled caveman—”

“—it doesn't matter,” Harry interrupted before her tirade could go very far, “you're still a dominant, and even _I_ can feel that dominant energy you give off, Hermione, it's like a heavy perfume or something. All my instincts are telling me to get you _away_ from Jade, and you're making everybody nervous by being such a—a—”

“—a _what,_ exactly?” she asked coldly, her eyes flashing dangerously. Harry took a nervous step back, alarmed by the near-violent reaction, and at that same moment two things happened at once: Ulrich stepped in front of Harry, his teeth bared at Hermione, and Greyback grabbed Hermione by the throat, and forced her to the ground.

Hermione fell with a strangled cry, but Greyback did not relax his hold as he bore down on her, his teeth bared as though he was still in his wolf form.

“You do _not_ come in here and pass judgment on our ways, when you only stay for the full moon and no longer,” Greyback growled, while Harry circled Ulrich to see what was happening, and he immediately pinned Harry to his side with his arm. Under normal circumstances this would have irked him, but with the moon still being so close and the infants at his back, Harry felt grateful for Ulrich's protective presence at the moment. “You are making all our subs very nervous with your attitude, and if the infants die because of it, that will be on _your_ head. Is that in any way _not_ clear, Granger?”

Harry did not hear her mumbled answer, but when the alpha released her, she cast one hurt and betrayed look at Harry before she stalked off with her head bowed, and Harry felt himself immediately relax.

“What—what the hell just happened?” Harry muttered to Ulrich as his grip on him relaxed a little, “I've never seen Hermione get like that before, it was...weird.”

“Stay here,” Ulrich said by way of answer, “I'll get you some food, and I'll explain. You should stay with the other subs.”

Without another word, Ulrich released Harry and sauntered off, and Harry was left standing before his fellow submissives, and he felt his stomach knot anxiously as Greyback approached him. Quite suddenly, Harry wished that Ulrich hadn't walked off so quickly.

“You did well, Potter,” Greyback said with an approving nod, “not many new subs would feel confident enough to face off with an angry dominant like that, but you didn't even hesitate.”

“I was an Auror, Alpha,” Harry replied simply, “as you well know. Facing dangerous situations is what I _do_.”

“Hmm,” Greyback let out a small grunt. “I want you to be in charge of the protection of Jade and her pups until they have been weaned. Until then, your other responsibilities are going to be postponed.”

“What?” Harry blinked, “but...what about all that stuff about how subs aren't allowed to be protectors of the pack? Were you making it up?”

“No I was not _making it up_ ,” Greyback growled with a sneer while he narrowed his eyes at Harry, “consider this something of a loophole. Dominants cannot approach her right now, and above all she and her wet nurses need to feel safe. I know you can handle yourself well enough to keep any pushy dominants from getting too close, at least until the pups have been weaned off their mother's milk.”

“Oh, okay, er, sorry,” Harry said quickly following the explanation, “so, what am I supposed to do? Just be her bodyguard?”

“She knows what she needs, and you will know how to protect her instinctually. You don't need to crowd her or stick to her side at all times, just be close enough that if some block-headed dominant tries getting to her, you have to intervene. Myself and Ulrich will be nearby if things get out of hand, and this duty shouldn't interfere with your courtship with my beta, either.”

“All right,” Harry replied with a slight nod, his skin tinging pink at Greyback's reference to Ulrich, “er, thanks for trusting me with this.”

“Don't make me regret it, Potter,” Greyback grumbled before he stalked away.

Harry watched the alpha go, and not a full minute later Ulrich returned with two steaming bowls of food. The warm, roughly hewn wood felt nice in his hands, though the food itself looked a little more charred than it normally did.

“With the subs more or less indisposed today, the dominants need to take up a lot of the other territory responsibilities,” he explained, and Harry couldn't help but laugh a little at that.

 

~*~

 

Despite Harry's excitement at his new (albeit temporary) position in the pack, he could not help but feel a little guilty when he caught sight his pupils' reaction to this news.

“But—but, Alpha!” one of the older boys, Vyvyan, protested, “Harry's our teacher! You can't just cancel our lessons for the next few months!”

“I can, and I will,” Greyback growled at once in answer, “Jade and her pups needs protecting, and that is much more important than learning _wizard_ magic.”

Vyvyan opened his mouth to argue, but Gina, who had been standing nearby, elbowed him sharply. He bowed his head and shuffled away from the alpha, with a few of his agemates in tow.

“You've become quite the celebrity around here, Harry,” Jade mused as she handed over one of the sleeping tots to her companion, an older female sub named Leticia.

“It's almost like I'm in the wizarding world all over again,” Harry replied, and the new mother laughed as she hefted up another of her children, and began to nurse them. “Have you thought of names for them yet?” he asked, keen to get the subject off himself.

“More or less,” Jade replied, still smiling as she relaxed a little more. Surrounded so completely by the other subs of the pack, she looked completely at ease. The mated male subs and Tavish had taken off to their respective duties, leaving Harry behind surrounded by the women, except for Adina, who seemed to be busy with other tasks in the territory. He felt a little out of place, but they were not unkind to him, nor did they exclude him from any of their conversations, but he still felt a little odd being the only man around.

Jade motioned to the pup in her arms first, “this one is Cyril, she,” she pointed to the other pup nestled in a pink blanket in her lap, “is called Xue,” then pointed to the other two pups, one being held by Leticia, then the one dozing in the makeshift manger next to Jade's hip, “and that's Sheng and Calliope.”

“Cute,” Harry said, uncertain what else he could say, and Jade offered him a small smile. She settled in with her children, tending to them like a singular synchronized swimming team: one would fuss, and Jade would have them in her arms immediately, another would get hungry, and she would lift the child to her breast. Her wet nurses helped her as needed, apparently sensing when Jade needed a second set of hands, and Harry sat back, amazed at the fluidity of her movements.

With his new responsibilities in the pack, Harry wasn't able to go very far, and he spent most of the day sitting and listening to the women gossip. Most of the topics he was wholly uninterested in hearing about—intimate details about childbirth he'd rather he didn't know, techniques for comfortable breastfeeding, and vaginal discharge that Jade was to expect now that she'd given birth (at this, Harry saw a few women titter at him when he went a little green). When their conversation turned to that morning however, Harry felt his stomach clench a little with unease.

“Can you _believe_ that dom?” one of the mated subs, an older blonde woman named Lucy, hissed softly, “thinking she has some rights to break our circle because she's a female?”

“Be fair, she's young, this was only her second moon, it's natural that she wouldn't understand how things work yet,” said Leticia reasonably, as she tucked a stray lock of black hair behind her ear and rounded her honey-gold gaze on the older woman, “she's the only female dominant, I suppose it's natural that she'd want to to seek out some sort of female companionship.”

“Female dominants make me nervous,” chirped Sadie, a younger sub closer to Harry's age, “they're so...so...pushy.”

“It comes with the territory, so to speak,” Leticia replied, “female dominants are in a league of their own. They intimidate male submissives and dominants equally, they unnerve the female subs...they don't have it easy. I feel sorry for her, actually.”

“Harry,” Jade said loudly, clearly trying to break up the discussion, “weren't you friends with her before you both were turned?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, unable to keep the coldness out of his tone, “Hermione's been one of my best friends since I was eleven. We've been through everything together.” He paused, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips, “she's always been a bit...pushy, I guess. Her heart's in the right place, she's just a bit single-minded on some things.” As Harry spoke, images from his fourth year flooded into his mind, and the memory of Hermione's House Elf campaigns. Harry couldn't help but smile a little nostalgically; simpler times.

“Hm,” Lucy huffed, and turned away from Harry to speak with one of the other subs, and slowly the others moved on to other topics.

Harry allowed his mind to wander, and for the first time he found himself actually thinking on what _else_ had happened the night before. In all the excitement, he'd almost forgotten about the fight between Remus and Ulrich.

His memories of this moon were much clearer than the last one had been, and though the details were still hazy, he knew that Remus had tried to separate him from Ulrich, and they had fought.

 

_Why had Remus—no, Moony—done that? It makes no sense._

 

Harry shook his head a little and heaved a despondent sigh as he tried to work out the logic behind such an action. At the same moment, Harry caught sight of Remus wander into the main area of the territory.

He looked even worse than usual; he was scratched up and badly bruised, and he was walking with a limp. Hermione was at his side apparently talking to him about something, and he kept waving his hand dismissively at her. Even with his new heightened werewolf hearing, Harry was still too far away to catch what they were saying. As he watched them, Remus turned suddenly, and their eyes met.

Harry felt as though he had been frozen to the spot.

The moment Remus had looked his way, he felt his breath catch, his throat tighten, and he was acutely aware of the sensation as though the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

Uncaring if it made him seem weak, Harry forced his gaze away, and glared at his knees.

 

_No matter what I do, I still care for him,_ Harry thought miserably, and blinked his eyes rapidly in an effort to stave off the tears that were burning in the corners of his eyes. _Even after everything, I still love you, Remus. But I don't want to love you—it hurts too much to love you._

 

_~*~_

 

That night, as promised, Harry was able to crawl into Ulrich's cabin with him, and he let out a contented sigh as he curled into the dominant's chest. Ulrich wrapped an arm around him, and held him close.

“You've had a busy twenty-four hours,” Ulrich mused, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

“Yeah, that's putting it mildly,” he replied, and shifted so that he could look up at him. “What would have happened...I mean, if by some fluke Remus had...er, beat you?”

Ulrich beamed at Harry's phrasing, but at the same time his arms tensed around him.

“You probably wouldn't like it...but he'd never beat me, I embraced my Lycanthropy, _he_ spent his life fighting it.”

“I know,” Harry said, unable to stifle an amused grin at Ulrich's arrogance over his own abilities, “but humour me.”

Ulrich did not immediately speak, but moved his left hand to stroke Harry's hair. He leant into the touch, but at the same moment his stomach turned over uneasily—clearly Ulrich was just as uneasy by the idea of Remus winning their fight as Harry was.

“He was contesting my claim to you,” Ulrich explained, “if he had won, he would have been free to court you again, and I would have been forced to step back and let him do it. But, Harry, he does not have as much control over himself as other dominants do, because of how long he spent fighting what he is. Try not to hold it against him, because he could have easily contested the claim in his human form, but he hasn't done so—he's been doing everything to not upset you or force your hand—”

“—except leave,” Harry muttered darkly, and Ulrich chuckled.

“Yes, well, I just mean don't hold it against him, he wasn't in complete control of himself last night. All his wolf mind saw was his old mate with someone who wasn't him, and he reacted.”

“You're too good,” Harry mumbled as he shimmied closer to Ulrich, unsettled by the prospect of having to go through a forced courtship with Remus _again_. “Anyone else wouldn't have anything nice to say about...that.”

“I've been interested in you for a long time,” Ulrich replied simply, while he adjusted his hold on Harry, “and I saw how much you loved him. It seemed like a shitty thing to do, just badmouth him for no reason. He loved you, and still does. His heart was in the right place when all that happened, he just handled it badly.”

“Understatement of the century,” Harry mumbled, then sighed heavily. “It doesn't matter if his heart was in the right place or not, he still royally fucked me up. There's no forgiving that.”

Ulrich didn't answer Harry's statement, but silently stroked his hair until they both finally fell asleep.

 

~*~

 

Hermione's last day in the territory before she was due to return to the wizarding world was spent mostly with Remus, while she shot Harry nasty, hurt glares that seemed to be a mixture of anger at him and some sort of strange jealousy. Remus's injuries, though far from life-threatening, were healing slowly, and more than once he motioned towards Harry, and it did not take a genius to work out what the pair were likely discussing. Remus's head was bowed forward, and he never looked directly at Harry, however.

The reason for Remus's reluctance to look in Harry's general direction became clear rather quickly, when Ulrich not-so-casually wandered over to the subs—as close as he dared without unsettling them, and Harry handed back Xue to her mother before he stood and stepped over to him. When he got closer, he realized that Ulrich looked far from happy at that moment.

“Is everything all right?” Harry asked as he reached him, and Ulrich immediately reached for his hand.

“I'm not sure,” Ulrich replied, and gave Harry's fingers a squeeze. “We've found another curse attached to the warding, we're trying to work out what it's supposed to do before we try and remove it, but, keep a close eye on Jade and the others, just in case.”

“'Course,” Harry replied with a nod, “should I mention it, just in case we need to move quickly?”

“No,” Ulrich said at once with a quick shake of his head, “I don't want her to get unnecessarily upset if nothing happens. Just keep an eye out.” Harry nodded again, and as Ulrich moved to pull away, Harry's fingers tensed over his as he leant up to kiss him lightly.

“Be careful.”

Ulrich offered Harry a small half-smile, and sauntered off. Harry watched him go, and when he turned to return to Jade and the others, he was stopped by a sudden small, uncertain, but very familiar voice.

“Harry? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

When Harry turned to face Hermione, her head was bowed forward a little, and she was watching him uncertainly. After yesterday's debacle Harry was reluctant to be alone with her, but the nervous look in her eyes told him that it was unlikely that she was planning to explode at him again. Even so, when he crossed his arms, he made sure that she could see that he was gripping the handle of his wand.

“What is it, Hermione?”

“I just want to apologize for yesterday,” she said meekly, her eyes downcast. “Ulrich pulled me aside and explained it all to me after...after Alpha, well, you know, and I still didn't want to hear it, but then...well, Remus talked to me after I'd calmed down a little, and I think I understand it now, and I'm sorry.” Hermione looked back up at Harry, her eyes shining, “I don't know what's wrong with me, or—or why I acted that way, and I just feel _awful_ if I've done anything to upset Jade or her babies, I didn't mean to...”

“These werewolf instincts really fuck us up, don't they?” Harry said, and Hermione laughed a little when he cracked a small smile. “She's okay. A little shaken, but she understands that you're not used to all the different cultural things yet, since you don't live here and stuff.” Harry's gaze briefly flicked to Remus, who had just wandered back into the main area of the territory from whatever he had been doing (Harry had never bothered to find out what his role in the pack was beyond omega), and slumped down on the edge of the activities. He didn't look upset by his exclusion, however, but looked on with a familiar, neutral calm.

“I'm glad...I'm still sorry, though,” Hermione said softly as her gaze followed Harry's over to Remus. She offered him a small, hopeful smile, and Harry responded with a scowl. “I know it's hard on you, him being here, but Remus really does love you, Harry, and he is trying to make it up to you.”

“So I've heard,” Harry muttered, “I wish he'd just accept that we're over and move on. I love—love _d_ him, but how can he make up for what he's put me through?”

“He can't,” Hermione replied, her voice ringing with certainty, “he knows that he can't make it up to you—not _really_. This is his penance. He still does not like the werewolf part of himself—he can't fully accept it. Being here is a constant reminder of everything that he hates about himself—it's a reminder of everything you two went through, and how had it not been for that one fluke meeting at the Ministry, none of this would have happened. He's more sorry than you'll know, Harry.”

“He told you all this?” Harry asked, frowning at the sensation he was feeling inside. He still felt angry and hurt by what Remus had done, but Hermione's words were like a healing salve, and he felt some of his bitterness beginning to ebb—he didn't like it.

“Some, not all,” she said, and shrugged a little, “I think it's pretty obvious how badly he feels about all this—and how much he still loves you. I don't think that will ever change.” Hermione smiled at him, then pulled him in for a hug. “I'll see you next moon, all right?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied hoarsely, and tightened his grip on her, “take care, and tell Ron I—er, I mean...” he trailed off, uncertain what he wanted to say. To his surprise, Hermione giggled.

“Oh, you two, I swear, you're both so emotionally stunted it's almost funny,” she said as she pulled back and beamed at him. “I know, as soon as this issue with the rogues is solved we'll do something together. Ron misses you too, you know. I think he's actually a bit jealous that Ginny and I have seen you and he hasn't.”

“I'm not _that_ bad,” Harry shot back with a small snort of laughter, “I think it was _you_ who once told him that he had the emotional range of a teaspoon...”

“Yes, well, it's rubbed of on you a bit, sorry to say,” she paused again, and pulled him in for another hug. As they embraced, Hermione whispered softly in Harry's ear, “ _you don't have to forgive him, but don't be so hard on him. He's trying to make amends, he knows that he's done wrong._ ”

Hermione released him and hurried off towards the Apparition point before Harry could respond, turning back once to wave at him before she disappeared into the trees.

Almost at once, a pair of strong arms encircled Harry's shoulders, and he was ensconced in the familiar scent of Ulrich. He eased back into the embrace as he felt the dominant's nose brush the side of his throat.

“I don't like her scent on you,” Ulrich muttered, and Harry immediately tensed as the familiar words threw him back into his memories.

 

_As Remus woke, he pulled Harry closer, and a low growl escaped him as he did so._

“ _You smell like Hermione Granger,” he muttered darkly as he broke the kiss._

 

“Harry?”

Ulrich's voice echoed, and his arms tensed around Harry, but Harry didn't respond.

“Harry, are you all right?”

Harry wasn't certain when the tears had made it to his eyes, but just as suddenly he was inhaling a sharp, shuddering breath, and he blinked rapidly to get rid of them before Ulrich saw, but it did nothing but enable them to streak his cheeks more quickly. Ulrich spun him around quickly, and his large hands cupped Harry's cheeks, and he brushed away the tears.

“I'm—I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled, unable to look at the man before him as he breathed shallowly and tried to get a hold on himself. “I've never been this—this _weepy_. I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“It's not a sin for a man to shed tears, Harry,” Ulrich said softly, “was it something I said?”

Frowning, Harry nodded.

“Just...you reminded me of something,” Harry explained, “I didn't mean to fall apart like that, I'm sorr—” Ulrich cut off Harry's words with a kiss, his arms moving to embrace Harry, and pulled the sub flush against him. Harry shut his eyes as he returned the kiss, and felt his anguish begin to calm.

“Don't apologize when you've done nothing wrong,” Ulrich murmured against his mouth, “come with me.”

“Why?” Harry asked and blinked as Ulrich began to urge him towards the cabins, and he glanced back at Jade, who was currently chatting animatedly with Tavish. “But what about...?”

“Alpha agreed to let Tavish replace you for a little while,” Ulrich replied as Tavish glanced up and caught Harry's eye, and offered him a suggestive wink. Harry felt himself go rather red, and Ulrich chuckled. “Come on, I think you need something to dull your mind...” Ulrich rocked his hips, causing the bulge of his half-hard cock to brush against the cleft of Harry's jean-clad buttocks, leaving no doubt about what he was alluding to.

Harry did not even pass a glance to Remus, who was looking on miserably as the couple hastened towards the cabins.

The pack omega stood up, his head bowed forward slightly, and he made for his own sleeping quarters.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In case it wasn't clear by my earlier physical description of her, Jade is Asian, I'm not selecting Chinese names just cuz.


	13. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Gratuitous smut! Yay! Next update will be July 21st. A bit on the short side, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless :)

Chapter Thirteen – Interlude

Harry grunted a little as he was pressed back into the door of their cabin. Though there was an unsettling air of familiarity to the position, the calming scent of Ulrich that enveloped him, paired with the soft, comforting sounds of the territory that filled the air helped Harry to keep from falling into bad memories. A thick, muscled thigh pressed against his groin, and Harry grabbed onto Ulrich to pull him into a bruising kiss.

“P-planning to re-stake your claim?” Harry panted against his mouth, and moaned softly when Ulrich's thigh pressed more firmly against Harry's slowly hardening cock.

“Oh, I'm planning a little more than that,” Ulrich purred before he nipped at Harry's lower lip, then half-dragged the sub towards the bed.

Another grunt escaped Harry as he toppled down onto the mattress, and in an instant the larger man was on him. Despite the ferocity of his movements, when Ulrich next leant in to kiss Harry, this time it was gentle and tender, as though he believed that Harry was made of glass.

“Ulrich...” Harry keened as he arched up, but the beta merely answered his plea with a chuckle, and pressed a hand to his shoulder to gently pin him to the mattress.

“Patience, Harry,” Ulrich murmured, and kissed him again, “I want you to remember this.”

“I have a feeling I'll _remember_ it for at least a week, no matter how fast or slow you go,” Harry replied with a faint smirk, and Ulrich snorted.

“I'm sure you will, but that's not exactly what I meant.”

Harry knew that, and his smirk softened to a small smile as he arched up to kiss the dominant, more tenderly this time.

“I know,” Harry replied softly, “you're too good to me, you know.”

“No one's good enough for you, Harry,” Ulrich replied softly, his hand trailing from his shoulder, down his front, and under the hem of Harry's shirt as he spoke, “you do nothing for your own gain. You're completely selfless. You don't ever hesitate in protecting others, you're just good for good's sake, no other reason. How could I even begin to compare to that?”

“Well, you get an O for effort,” Harry replied softly, his face pink from the string of compliments. “You're selling yourself short, though. You're...you're...you're my salvation, Ulrich,” Harry said, and Ulrich snorted. “No, I mean it. After everything with—” Harry broke off and shook his head, unwilling to say _his_ name, not when they were in bed together like this. “You put me back together again. I'll always be indebted to you for that.”

Ulrich did not answer, but leant down to kiss Harry once before he gave the shirt a small tug, and Harry lifted his arms to allow it to be stripped off. Ulrich was rarely one to bother with top garments, and today was no exception. Harry reached up and mapped the sea of hard muscle with his fingertips, and smiled every time one twitched under the light touch.

The dominant's mouth migrated from Harry's, to press a trail of kisses along his jaw, down the side of his throat, and to his chest. The touches were so gentle that it felt more like someone trailing a feather across his skin, and Harry shuddered as Ulrich's mouth travelled to his left nipple, and closed over it. Harry moaned and arched his back, the sensation shooting straight to his groin like an electric shock.

“Ulrich...” Harry moaned his name while his hand moved to thread though his thick dark locks, and Harry felt a distinct vibration against his chest that gave him the impression that Ulrich was laughing.

“You're so impatient,” Ulrich teased as he gave Harry's hardening nipple one final lick, then moved to the opposite one.

“No I'm not, you're a tease... _oh!_ ” Harry gasped as one of Ulrich's hands slipped between his thighs and gave his cock a gentle squeeze.

“I want you to enjoy yourself, I don't want this to be over in thirty seconds,” Ulrich murmured, his mouth not leaving the expanse of Harry's chest for long, and he proceeded to suckle the nipple he had been aiming for, and Harry moaned again.

“Oh, I'm definitely enjoying myself,” Harry panted as he rocked his hips into Ulrich's hand, which was still lightly gripping his cock, but not stimulating it. “I'd enjoy it more if you'd bloody well get on with it.”

Ulrich chuckled again, and rose up to kiss Harry lightly.

“Impatient,” he said.

“Tease,” Harry countered.

Ulrich bowed forward to kiss him again, but this time, Harry wasn't having it. He reached up and pushed on Ulrich's shoulder, silently telling him to roll over.

Ulrich complied at once, and appeared somewhat surprised by Harry's actions as the sub climbed onto him and straddled his waist. He rocked his hips, grinding his erection against Ulrich's and earned himself a pleasing groan from his dominant. Harry's eyes hungrily took in the veritable feast of sun-kissed flesh before him, the sparkling intensity of Ulrich's dark, lustful eyes, and the elegant way his dark locks fanned across the pillow that he lay upon while he gazed at Harry with unabashed love and desire.

Harry shifted up a little to kiss Ulrich once, more roughly than Ulrich had kissed him, and after a moment he reluctantly broke the kiss, and proceeded to lick, bite, and kiss his way along the man's strong jaw, and down the side of his throat. Ulrich shiver under his touch, and lifted a hand to rest on Harry's hip, his callused thumb rubbing small circles against the bone.

The small touch was making it a little hard for Harry to concentrate, paired with the confusing werewolf instincts that were surging through him at the same time. He could feel his inner wolf positively balking at the domineering position of Harry on top of Ulrich, and it trying to push Harry into letting Ulrich take control, but he forced himself to ignore it—he'd had enough of being _that_ person. He was sub, he couldn't change that, but he wasn't so submissive that it bordered on passive.

Ulrich did not seem to be complaining about Harry's decision to take control either, as a string of soft curses and appreciative moans escaped him while Harry continued to kiss, nip, and lick his way down Ulrich's heavily muscled chest, pausing to tweak Ulrich's nipples and tease them just as he had on Harry, and only slowed to a stop when he reached the top of Ulrich's trousers. Harry rested a hand over his gargantuan cock, and looked up at his partner.

“Do you know the bone-resetting charm?” Harry asked, and Ulrich blinked in confusion.

“Er, yes...why?”

“Because there's every chance that I might break my jaw on your cock,” Harry explained with a small smirk, and Ulrich snorted, while an attractive pink flush rose in his cheeks.

“I'm not _that_ big,” he replied, still chuckling a little at Harry's roundabout compliment, “but if it makes you feel better, I know both that charm and the one for dislocations.”

Harry offered Ulrich a grin, then proceeded to very slowly unbutton the dominant's jeans, pull down the zip, and extracted the thick, heavy cock.

It seemed almost bigger than Harry remembered; thick and long, with a pearlescent droplet of precome leaking from its tip. Though Harry hadn't even begun to do anything yet, Ulrich was already panting hard, and he was staring up at Harry with a pleading look in his eye.

Not one to deny Ulrich—or himself—the pleasure, Harry bent forward and closed his mouth over the tip. Ulrich hissed and his hips twitched feebly, as though he wanted to thrust forward and tried to hold himself back at the same time.

Amused by the reaction, Harry slowly began to take more of Ulrich's massive cock into his mouth. Though he would have liked to immediately (try) and swallow the whole thing, he had to admit that teasing the dominant was too much fun for him to want to try and rush it. Beneath him, Ulrich was letting out a number of soft groans, and he reached down to rest a hand at the back of Harry's neck, though he applied no pressure, and merely encouraged him to continue.

The head of Ulrich's cock bumped Harry's uvula, and he grinned inwardly (his mouth far too full to do it literally) as he took a breath, forced his throat to stay relaxed, and proceeded to swallow him further.

The sensation of his throat convulsing around Ulrich's cock seemed to be almost too much for the dominant, and his hips thrust forward almost of their own accord, and he slid an inch or two farther in. Harry choked a little, and he heard Ulrich curse and utter something that could have been an apology, but Harry was to focused on the task at hand to really listen all that closely.

Once Harry had managed to swallow him to the root, he paused for a moment to acclimate his throat to the sensation before he drew back, took another breath, and swallowed him again. Slowly, he began to bob his head, interspersing it with soft gasps of air, while his own hard, aching cock made a rather embarrassing stain on the front of his jeans.

Beneath him, Ulrich had begun to moan his name like a chant or a prayer, and he shuddered as he tried to keep still. After a few moments, he gripped Harry's shoulder, and gave it a small tug. It took Harry a second to realize that Ulrich wanted him to stop, and he reluctantly pulled back, and the cock escaped his mouth with an audible, wet, _pop!_

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked, his voice very hoarse from the abuse he had just put his throat through, and Ulrich chuckled as he pulled Harry in for another kiss.

“Oh, no, Harry, absolutely not,” he replied, then kissed him again, this time his tongue extending a little to trace Harry's lips, and Harry immediately opened his mouth to taste Ulrich as thoroughly as Ulrich tasted him. “It's just that I don't want to find my release until I'm buried _deep_ inside you.”

Harry moaned aloud at the imagery, and pulled Ulrich into another kiss. He felt a small twinge of frustration over the fact that Ulrich would not kiss him as hard nor as roughly as he would have liked, and instead seemed to frequently go in for more tender or sensual kisses. Harry couldn't quite pinpoint why it bothered him so much, but at the same time he was far too aroused to dwell on it for more than a few seconds.

Ulrich's hands dropped to the waistband of Harry's jeans and quickly opened them, freeing his cock to the cool autumn air of their cabin. Harry rolled off Ulrich long enough to kick the garment off, but in that moment the dominant took advantage of his distraction, and climbed on him again, pinning him back to the mattress.

Harry let out a soft squeak of surprise, the trousers still caught around his ankles, but any further protests were muffled by Ulrich's mouth on his. He helped Harry free himself of the garment, but when Harry moved to try and make him roll over again, he felt Ulrich's muscles tense, and he would not budge.

He did not feel trapped or scared by the silent refusal to let him take control again, but he did feel mildly annoyed. Ulrich hadn't seemed to mind it not fifteen seconds earlier, so what had changed?

“P-please, Harry,” Ulrich murmured softly, the plaintive quality of his voice catching Harry a little off-guard, “I need—I need...”

He didn't need to finish the request, Harry understood at once what he was requesting.

 

_I need to dominate you._

 

Harry arched up and kissed him hard, and he linked his arms around the dominant's neck as he pressed the line of his body flush against Ulrich's.

“Take what you need, Ulrich,” Harry murmured, “I trust you. Though...” he paused, and small smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, “if I'm not distinctly bow-legged afterwards, I'll be _very_ disappointed.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Ulrich answered with a snort, and pressed one hand to Harry's hip, coaxing him onto his stomach. Harry complied at once, and Ulrich crammed a pillow under Harry's hips to help make the position a little more comfortable, while at the same time Harry lifted his arse in the air invitingly.

Harry had only just begun to wonder what pack wolves might use for lube when Ulrich effectively turned his brain to jelly, by way of circling Harry's entrance with the tip of his tongue.

A string of Uncle Vernon's most favourite curses flew from his mouth, and Harry arched into the touch with a soft groan. He heard Ulrich chuckle behind him, and the tip of his tongue began to prod at his hole experimentally. Harry moaned again, and shuddered as the appendage pushed past his guardian muscles and proceeded to taste him.

“Oh, God, Ulrich...” Harry keened, panting harshly as he reached down to palm his cock, only to have his hand promptly swatted away.

“Don't make me tie you up to get you to behave,” Ulrich murmured, then nipped at his right buttock.

“Promises, promises...” Harry shot back with a small grin, then let out a sharp hiss as he listened to Ulrich pick up his wand and cast the customary lubrication and preparation charms. Even with these charms completed, Ulrich still dipped his fingers into Harry's relaxed hole, and stretched him further. This time, it was Harry who reached around and pushed away the dominant's hand.

“I want to feel you, don't be so cautious,” Harry said simply, “if I'm in pain, I'll tell you, all right?”

Ulrich looked somewhat reluctant, and Harry pulled him in for another kiss, more gentle than the ones he'd bestowed on him so far that evening. “You won't hurt me,” Harry said when he pulled back, “I trust you.”

The dominant still looked like he did not believe Harry's sentiment, but conceded to his wishes nonetheless, and nodded a little. Harry turned back over and lifted his arse in the air again, and he let out a soft groan of desire when he felt the large cock head brush his prepared hole.

Almost frustratingly slowly, Ulrich began to push in, and Harry groaned again as his arse stretched to accommodate Ulrich's considerable girth. Harry's groan of pleasure shifted to a whine of annoyance when he felt Ulrich stop.

“No, no,” Harry panted, “keep going, please...”

Ulrich obliged at once, and pressed a kiss to the back of Harry's neck while he slid the rest of the way in.

It hurt—but far from complain, Harry revelled in it. There was something almost convalescent about the distinctive ache in his rear, and paired with his near-agonizing arousal, the entire sensation was enough to leave him breathless.

“Ulrich,” Harry keened, “s-so good...”

Ulrich seemed to take Harry's moan for assent to continue, and he drew out of Harry's arse, only to thrust back in slowly.

“Not made of glass...” Harry reminded him in between pants, and much to his pleasure Ulrich took the hint and picked up his pace, Harry's body beginning to jerk from the force of his thrusts.

_Finally,_ Harry thought as he let out a pleasured moan, and moved in time with the dominant— _his_ dominant—his mind lost to the pleasures Ulrich brought out of him, while, most amusingly, his few attempts to reach for his own cock were intercepted by another quick swat of Ulrich's hand. He didn't say anything, but Harry could almost hear the demand that he orgasm by Ulrich's cock alone, and no other stimulus.

It took an almost embarrassingly short amount of time for them both to find their release.

Harry came first with a short cry as he pressed back into Ulrich harder, his arse clenching around Ulrich's delicious cock, and the vice-like grip pushed Ulrich over the edge, and Harry felt his arse fill with his dominant's hot seed.

The pair fell onto the bed in a tangled mess of sweaty, sticky limbs, and as Ulrich began to soften and he pulled himself out of Harry. Harry felt strangely empty without it, but he was distracted by this strange thought as Ulrich rolled onto his side and drew Harry close.

“You were so amazing, Harry,” he breathed, then leant forward to kiss Harry lightly.

“So were you,” Harry replied, as he returned the kiss, “you're...a much more tender lover than I expected.”

“And you're much more demanding than I would have expected,” Ulrich replied with a soft chuckle. Harry smiled, and shifted closer to him in the embrace. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Very much,” Harry answered, “I feel...good; content. Better than I have in a long while.”

Ulrich kissed Harry again, then drew out his wand to clean them up before he shimmied under the covers and pulled Harry close again.

It did not take Ulrich long to fall asleep, still holding onto Harry like he was a favoured toy, and it was only when Harry was certain that Ulrich was asleep that he allowed his small, content smile to fall.

It was true, the sex had been great.

But Harry couldn't help but feel that something was _missing_.

He shifted in Ulrich's embrace, and rolled over to study his sleeping face. _What's wrong with me?_ Harry wondered, _why does this feel so...different? Why do I feel like I'm lacking the fire, the passion with Ulrich that I had with..._

He forced the thought to stop before he could complete it, and shook his head harshly. He _refused_ to think about him. He was with Ulrich now; Remus had had his shot, and he ruined it.

Harry curled up with his dominant, his mind a mess of conflicting, frustrating emotions, and with a small, contented sigh, Ulrich drew him closer. Harry forced his mind into a blank slate, determined to not obsessively think anymore about Remus or anything else, and just sleep off some of the best sex he'd had in ages.

 

~*~

 

Harry was almost asleep when it happened.

A sharp _crack,_ like violent thunder, but infinitely louder, broke the silence of the territory. It was closely followed by a loud, almost siren-like wail that Harry recognized immediately as a Caterwauling Charm being set off.

Both Harry and Ulrich shot up in bed, and the dominant's face had taken on a stricken, horrified look.

“What is it?” Harry demanded as screams of his fellow pack members began to fill the air. “What's going on?”

“It's the rogues,” Ulrich said, his tone soft in his shock, “they've broken through our wards.”

 


	14. When The Bough Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you guys for the wonderful slew of freakouts the previous chapter caused. They all made me cackle, because at my core, I might be a little bit evil. Just a little, heh. Next update will be July 28th.

Chapter Fourteen – When The Bough Breaks

 

“The rogues?” Harry asked, his heart in his throat, “they've broken in?”

Before Ulrich could answer, the screaming began.

Harry hated himself more than a little at the thrill that ran through him as he leapt from the bed and grabbed his clothes. He was halfway into his jeans when Ulrich's hand at his wrist stopped him short.

“What?” Harry asked, and frowned at the concerned, protective look that he saw in the dominant's eyes. He had a feeling that he knew _exactly_ what Ulrich was about to say.

“Harry, you should stay here,” Ulrich said seriously, his stern tone just short of commanding, “I need to help Alpha protect the pack and I can't—”

“—I am not some fair damsel in constant need of protection,” Harry snapped, “I can take care of myself, thank you. I need to find Jade, and I need to make sure that she and her pups are all right. You have your duties, and I have mine. Go see to them.”

Ulrich looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Harry's determined expression seemed to stop him short. The screaming outside grew louder, more urgent, and that seemed to make Ulrich's decision for him.

Ulrich bowed his head a little, nodded sullenly, and they dressed in silence. When they made for the cabin's door, Ulrich stopped Harry again and kissed him once, hard, with far more passion and need than he had shown earlier.

“Be careful, don't let your guard down,” Ulrich murmured, and Harry got up on his toes to kiss him again.

“You too,” Harry replied, “be safe.”

Both men tore from the cabin, Harry heading for the bonfire, and Ulrich for their borders to see what had gone wrong.

The moment Harry had stepped outside, it became an effort to force himself onward as he was thrown harshly backward into his memories of the war.

Burning, screaming, wolfish snarls, and small explosions filled the air around him. He could hear the crackle of burning flesh, the tearing and snapping of bone as the few werewolves that could turn at will attacked without remorse, and the green grass was dotted with red.

Harry reached the bonfire in under a minute, and he saw several rogues advancing on the cluster of frightened subs huddled near to the fire. He drew his wand.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry cried, and to his great surprise, the werewolf that he had hit crumpled to the ground. He shook his head, and focused on what needed to be done as he cast the spell several more times before he reached Jade and the others, who all looked petrified and lost, as though they had no idea what to do.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked Jade as he grabbed one of her shoulders, keeping his gaze both on her and the others, as well as any oncoming attackers. Jade looked shaken and afraid, but unharmed, which was verified when she nodded. “Okay, good. Come on, I need to get you guys to the cabins.”

“Wait!” Jade cried as her arms tensed over the bundles in her arms, and Harry realized suddenly that she was only carrying two. “I don't have Sheng or Calliope!”

“I have Calliope,” Lucy said quickly as she stepped up to Jade's side, “Tavish has Sheng.” In an instant, Tavish bracketed her, and she sagged with relief.

“Jade,” Harry said, bringing her attention back to him. “Would you feel comfortable letting one of the other subs hold on to Xue or Cyril? I think it might be better for everyone to hold one of the children, to make them more secure...”

Jade's arms tensed around the two bundles in her arms, which was all the answer that he needed.

“Okay, that's okay,” Harry said quickly, knowing that there was no time to argue the point. “Come on...” he paused, and glanced over to one of the other subs. “Leticia?” he said, and the other sub perked up at the sound of her name as she stepped forward. “Help her, if you can.”

Harry paused, and turned his attention to the rest of the group. “Head for the Sub House,” he called to them, “run, don't look round. I'll make sure that we all get out of here safe. Now, go!”

The group did not need to be told twice, and herd-like, they closed ranks and hurried towards the cabins.

Harry circled them as best he could, his eyes wide as he looked out for potential threats. He barked orders to them when curses came flying their way, and as a whole they would duck or swerve while Harry shot his own curses back at their assailants.

A curse glanced off Harry's shoulder, burning through his shirt and it scorched the skin. He hissed in pain, but did not allow it to slow him down as he shot a slicing hex at the werewolf who had hit him. He moved to dodge it, but not quite fast enough, and the assailant howled in pain as his forearm was sliced off cleanly at the elbow.

The group had made it halfway to the cluster of cabins when a few of the subs let out a number of fearful cries, and the noise woke the babies. They let out shrill cries of the own, and it took Harry a second to figure out what had frightened them when he saw it—four werewolves, in their wolf forms, had surrounded them.

Harry acted quickly, and did not allow himself to think— _just act_.

“ _Sectumsempra! Stupefy! Impedimentia! Stupefy!_ ”

The first werewolf collapsed with a pained howl, it thrashing and squirming from the numerous cuts that had opened along the length of its body. The second staggered, but did not fall, and the third froze, but not for more than a few seconds before it seemed to shake the jinx off, and went after the subs again. The fourth Harry had not managed to hit, and it was still advancing on the group.

Harry tried again, and two of the werewolves fell, the final one, apparently impervious to his attacks, leapt at him with an enraged snarl, and though he had missed Harry with its teeth, the sub had not been quite as lucky to avoid its claws.

Harry gritted his teeth against the pain as deep scratches were gouged into his ribs. The scratches weren't bleeding heavily, but the force that had been put behind the attack made it almost feel as though he had just barely managed to avoid his ribs being broken.

Shaking a little as he tried to ignore the deep ache, he shunted the group towards the cabins with his back to them, while he pointed his wand at the wolf again. It was a solid black, and it bared its bloodied teeth at Harry as it advanced on the subs. The sight made Harry feel sick with fear—who had this wolf bitten into to cause so much blood to cling to its teeth like that?

“ _Incarcerous!_ ” Harry cried, and the wolf howled as thin ropes sprang from Harry's wand, wound around the creature's ankles, and it forced him down to the ground.

In that same instance, a curse hit Harry in the chest and knocked him off his feet, which caused all the breath to rush from his lungs.

Harry choked, and looked up to see a young woman, her dirty, tangled blonde hair pulled away from her face in a rough braid, and she was dressed in some sort of tight, moss-green singlet, black shorts made out of some sort of shiny elastic material, and well-worn leather hiking boots. There was a knife holster affixed to her large, muscled thigh, and she held a long, narrow wand in her hand. Her amber eyes flashed dangerously as she gazed at him. Even if she had not had a wand on hand, Harry felt that she looked as though she could kill him with her pinkie without much effort.

“Famous Harry Potter,” she purred in a tone of voice highly reminiscent of Bellatrix Lestrange. “Such an _honour_ to meet the man who helped take down Red Moon. We owe you a great debt, it is _so_ much easier to kill as we please without fanatical wizards hunting us down.”

Harry glared up at her, but he did not speak. He reached for his wand, which had been knocked from his hand when the curse had hit, and hissed when another curse skinned the flesh of his arm, making it burn and blister.

“Ah, ah,” she cooed, “no, no, no, you will not be touching that.”

Harry glared at her, but with this woman's entire focus trained on him, it was a small mercy that it enabled the other subs to escape to the maze of cabins at his back.

Distantly, over the yells and explosions of the dominants fighting the rest of the invading pack, Harry was quite certain that he heard a door slam. Relief flooded within him, but he did not allow it to show on his face. He still was not completely certain if her target was him or the subs, and if it was the latter, he needed to keep her busy as long as he could until he could either incapacitate her, or help came.

“Despite all that you have done, Greyback made a claim on you before any of us had a chance to contest it,” she continued, and flicked her wand at him when he tried to stand up. The curse forced him to the ground, hard, which jarred his rib injury painfully. Harry gritted his teeth against the pain, and shot her another glare. “Though, seeing you now, I suppose it must have been your mate who actually destroyed Red Moon—not you. In fact, I have to wonder why Greyback would even turn you—though he _does_ love to collect weakling subs.”

“I'm...I'm not weak,” Harry hissed, breathing hard as he tried to reach for his wand again. He screamed as another curse hit him, and he felt his tendons in his wand hand snap.

“A weakling sub,” she retorted, “I would not have you for my pack, but more than one of my doms have all sorts of nasty things planned for you.” She flashed him a wicked grin, and Harry blanched.

“You'll have to kill me,” Harry growled, refusing to show this woman his fear, “I'll never go willingly with someone as psychotic as you.”

“Pity,” she said with a cold laugh, and let out a high whistle as she began to shed her clothes. “I'm not usually a cannibal, but devouring you, Harry Potter, will be a pleasure.”

Another pack member of hers, a smaller, but still strong-looking man ran to her side and took her clothes, weapon, and her wand.

He and Harry both looked on as her bones crunched, and she bowed forward as she forced the change. Harry's eyes widened as with a lightning-fast change reminiscent of Greyback, she turned into a large, light grey wolf.

Harry moved to snatch up his wand, but a wave of pain so intense washed over him, and his vision warped for a moment. His hands were in too much pain to properly handle a wand, and as he turned back to face her, she seemed to be laughing through her wolfish snarls.

 

_Is this how I die?_ Harry wondered in a strange, fear-induced haze. His hand refused to hold on to his wand, and he could not transform at will—he had no means to defend himself. He looked around, but he could not make out familiar faces in the ensuing chaos.

_Wait, what am I waiting for?_ Harry asked himself with a small shake of his head, and the realization hit him quite suddenly— _run_.

Harry jumped to his feet, spun on his heel, and bolted.

The alpha let out an enraged snarl and she gave chase. Harry knew that it was not far to the Sub House from where he was, but it had no defences, and he doubted that she would have any qualms about breaking the door down. He couldn't risk Jade or her babies—not like that.

Harry darted into the dense foliage of trees that made up the pack's territory, and he heard the distant crashing of her giving chase.

Harry could not tell how close she was, and he did not allow himself to slow down as he continued to run, his ribs and hands were aching, a stitch in his side was making it difficult to breathe, but still he did not stop. As a werewolf, he could run faster and farther than an average human, but he knew that as a sub, he still did not have the stamina to match a dominant.

As Harry ran, he looked for something that might possibly tip the odds in his favour—a river he could cross, some sort of strong-smelling herb that would mask his scent, a den to hide in— _anything_. Nothing jumped out at him however, and his panic began to mount again.

He broke through a small break in the trees when he saw it. Harry let out a gasping sigh of relief as he closed in on a tree with low-hanging branches, and he wasted no time as he made a run for it, then leapt for one of the thick branches that might hold his weight.

His hands closed firmly around the branch before he could think better of it, and he was blinded by pain as he recalled his injured hand. He hooked his arm and good hand around the bough to take the pressure off his injured limbs, but at the same moment, he felt sharp teeth close around one of his flailing ankles.

It was not a gentle hold, and Harry cried out as he felt the skin tear. He tried to tighten his hold on the branch, but the wolf was far stronger than he was in this form, and she yanked hard on his leg, uncaring what damage she might be doing to him in the process. Harry's forearms, palms, and at last his fingertips scraped roughly across the rough bark, and tears sprung to his eyes, both from pain and fear as he lost his weak hold on the tree completely, and he crumpled to the ground.

Harry's head hit the hardened, upturned roots of the old rowan tree that he had been grappling at mere seconds before, and he saw stars. The teeth around his ankle sank in deeper, applying more and more pressure to it, until he felt his ankle bone break.

Harry screamed.

Effectively hobbled and alone in the wood, he cursed himself for his own stupidity. Harry turned his head to gaze at his murderess. Her jaws open in a feral grin, and she was eyeing him like a felled deer. Bloody saliva dripped from her teeth, and Harry felt as though he might be sick with fright.

Haggard gasps escaped him as he tried to think clearly through the agonizing pain of his various injuries, and he watched in horror as she took several steps back, and crouched.

Knowing what was coming, and unwilling to watch his death come at him, Harry clenched his eyes shut. Heavy footfalls signalled her approach, and Harry held his breath and waited for the pain to come.

“ _Harry!_ ”

A sudden voice, a _very_ familiar voice screamed his name, the tone laced with horror, and Harry's eyes snapped open just in time to see their pack's omega throw himself in between Harry and his attacker.

Harry let out a cry of shock and fright as he watched Remus crumple like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The wolf let out an infuriated snarl as she hit the wrong target, and she bore down on the weakened dominant. She pressed her entire weight against Remus's chest, and he let out a sharp yelp as Harry watched his chest sink inward. She broke one or two of his ribs with ease, with no more effort than she had expended in breaking Harry's ankle.

Before Harry was able to properly react to this attack, the female wolf's teeth sank into Remus's throat, biting hard through the muscle that she found there, but she had most unfortunately miscalculated the strength of Remus Lupin, something, Harry knew, that was a fatal mistake.

Remus lifted his wand and whispered an incantation. From Harry's distance, he could not hear what he had said, but there was no mistaking that familiar flash of green light, nor the sound of rushing death that came for the alpha that stood over him.

She crumpled in an instant, and with some difficulty, Remus pushed the dead weight of the werewolf off of him, but he did not get up.

Harry rolled onto his stomach, which was painful, but less painful than standing would have been. He balanced awkwardly on his elbows and knees in an effort to keep the weight off his various injuries, and slowly he crawled over to the fallen man with whom Harry had once shared his life.

Remus was breathing shallowly, and he was very pale. The wounds to his throat were not as fatal as they could have been, but serious enough that they made Harry's stomach turn over, and tears pricked his eyes.

“Remus?” Harry asked weakly, his eyes wide with horror, “w-what did you do that for?”

“For you, of course,” Remus replied, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, and he cracked a small smile. He reached up a hesitant hand, and brushed a stray tear from Harry's cheek. “I—I was beginning to think that it was foolish to come here—selfish to try and wedge myself back into your life, especially after I was the cause of so much damage. Harry, I am so sorry.” He paused, and turned his head to the side to cough harshly. Harry's fear amplified when he saw Remus spit a mouthful of blood to the ground. “But...I'm glad that I came, now. I was able to stop that woman from killing you, perhaps if I had had more time, I could have paid further penance for all that I have done to you, but it is...a start.”

“You idiot,” Harry whispered weakly, and reached out to take the older man's hand with his uninjured one. In an instant, their fingers laced together, as though nothing had changed. “I'm not worth dying for, you shouldn't have done that. I—I can't watch you die.”

“Oh, Harry, you are wrong,” Remus murmured, and another choking cough erupted from his lungs. When he turned back to Harry, tears were trailing down his cheeks, and into his hair.

“For you, I would give my mind, body, soul, life...I would give everything I am, everything I have, and everything I could be to keep you safe,” Remus whispered, his tone just short of reverence as he gazed up at Harry. “I am sorry it wasn't enough for...for us. I am sorry for all the foolish, thoughtless, and harmful things I have done to you, when I thought I was acting in your best interest. Perhaps one day, you may find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Remus's eyes slid shut, his hand in Harry's slackened, and Harry bowed forward as a sob escaped him.

“You stupid, stupid man...” he choked out, “if you wanted to stop hurting me, why would you go and do something like this?” Another sob slipped past his lips, “wake up, Remus, _please_.”

A soft rustling of the foliage behind Harry caused his gaze to snap up, and he turned to see Ulrich and another dominant who he did not know, young but with a shock of long white hair, breaking through the thick trees.

Both dominants were covered with minor wounds, and their clothes were badly tattered and smoking where they had been hit by dark curses, and the unknown dominant was bleeding profusely from a circular bite mark on his bicep. As they took in the sight of Harry, Remus, and the dead alpha nearby, their eyes widened, though neither of them spoke.

“He jumped in the way and saved me,” Harry whispered, knowing full well that they would be able to hear him from the distance. He was grateful, because he did not know whether he would have been able to manage speaking at a normal level at the moment. “I—I was finished, and he—”

Ulrich did not say a word, but hurried to Harry's side, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Uncaring if it made him look weak, and too tired to even try to quell the flow, he allowed the floodgates to break, and he wept into Ulrich's shoulder.

Above and around him, Harry could hear a soft flurry of activity. He did not know what it meant, and was somewhat startled when Ulrich started to pull away from him.

“Harry,” he said softly, while he drew Harry's attention back to him.

“W-what?” he asked, while he moved his forearm to his cheeks and roughly rubbed at his tears.

“Remus isn't dead.”

“ _What_?” Harry whispered, his eyes wide, and he turned back to look at Remus's still form. “But...but...he's not moving...”

“He will be soon,” the other dominant added, while he pulled off his thin T-shirt and began to tear the grey fabric into strips, then began to tightly wind them around the gaping wounds upon the Remus's throat. “I will bring him to our Healers; you should come with me, Harry, you need to be seen to.” As the dominant spoke, he very gently lifted Remus up; the way his limbs hung uselessly at his side, and the way his head lolled on his shoulders made Harry's stomach turn over uneasily. He certainly _looked_ dead.

“Ulrich, help me?” Harry asked, and winced at how weak he sounded. “I—I can't walk.”

Ulrich did not need to be asked twice. He pulled Harry into his arms, and held him as delicately as he might a newborn baby. Harry, too exhausted both mentally and physically to offer up any of his usual protests at being carried, rested his cheek against Ulrich's chest, and looped his arms around the dominant's neck.

“He was trying to save me,” Harry mumbled as they wove through the trees.

“I know,” Ulrich replied, while his hold on Harry momentarily tensed in something close to a comforting hug.

“He...I was horrible to him for weeks and weeks, and he still saved me...why would he do that? Why would he even _bother_?”

“Because he cares for you, Harry,” Ulrich replied softly, “when people care for each other, they are often willing to do everything in their power to keep them safe. How many times have you risked yourself for your friends?”

“More times than I can count,” Harry replied in a soft, fatigued mumble, “Hermione always called it my _saving-people thing_.”

“It is that,” Ulrich said with a soft chuckle. “Remus will always care for you, I think, even when you claim to have moved on...”

“I don't _claim_ it,” Harry interrupted, “I _have_ moved on.” He tried to shift closer to Ulrich to prove the point, though in his current position he really didn't have anywhere to go. At the same time, Harry didn't like how part of him did not wholly believe his own words.

“Well, either way, he did that because he cares for you, and he always will.”

“He's so stupid,” Harry mumbled miserably, “a fucking idiot. If he had just...just given up on me, he wouldn't be almost dead right now.”

“No, but you would be,” Ulrich replied, “I would have never gotten to you in time, and I would have lost you. Do not insult his bravery, Harry. It is said, ' _whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives._ ' It may have been foolish to throw himself in front of an attack like that, but he did it to save you. Never forget that.”

Harry had no idea how to respond to Ulrich's words, or his tender sentiment to someone who was for all intents and purposes his rival. He relaxed into the embrace and decided to save his questions on that topic for later. He parted his lips to question Ulrich over what had happened during the battle, but bone-deep exhaustion claimed him before he could speak, and cradled in Ulrich's strong embrace, Harry fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The quote that Ulrich recites is from The Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, 1891 version(or Picture of Dorian Gray, depending on which edition you have).


	15. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be August 4th. See you guys then! ^.^

Chapter Fifteen – Decisions

 

The next time that Harry woke up, he was in a cabin that he did not recognize, which smelt strongly of dittany.

His body ached, his head felt strangely fuzzy, and it took him a moment to recall everything that had happened.

 

The Rogues.

The attack.

_Remus._

 

Harry sat up sharply, and immediately regretted it as his entire body screamed at him for making such a sudden movement. He looked around and found that he was in the healer's cabin, a medium-sized space reserved for the ill or wounded. He could smell the distinct scent of over half a dozen werewolves, some familiar, some not, but he could not see them, for a number of movable partitions had been set up around his bed to give him the illusion of privacy.

His abrupt action had roused the person that had been sleeping in a chair next to Harry's bed, and he turned to see Ulrich shaking his head a little as he shook off his sleep, then looked up and smiled at Harry.

“Welcome back,” the dominant said with a warm smile.

“How—how long was I asleep?” Harry asked, blinking hard as he tried to clear his head.

“Not long, maybe a day or so,” Ulrich replied, “our Healers tell us you'll be free to go soon. Your injuries were actually pretty minor—for werewolves, that is—you were mostly just exhausted.”

“Good,” Harry said, “that's—that's good.” He reached for Ulrich, and he closed both of his hands around one of Ulrich's larger ones. A question burned at the back of his mind that he wanted to ask, but he was also afraid to do so. In part because he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but also because he was afraid how Ulrich might misinterpret his concern. Ulrich seemed to know what he wanted to ask anyway, and spoke up before Harry had the chance to.

“Remus should be fine,” Ulrich said, his voice so neutral and even that Harry could not tell how the beta felt about that one way or the other, “his wounds were healed and we got some Blood-Replenishing Potion into him. Like you, he just need to rest now.”

“Good,” Harry said again, his entire form slumping with relief as he looked down at the thin blanket that covered him, “I—I don't want anyone else hurt because of me.” Harry paused, his gaze shifting back to the large, weather-worn hand clasped between his own, and looked up. “Did we lose anyone?”

Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach when Ulrich's expression darkened, and his hand tensed, it gripping onto Harry like he was a lifeline.

“The rogue pack, almost all of them went straight for Alpha,” he said softly, his voice a little hoarse, “I saw Alpha trying to throw off four or five turned wolves while he tried to transform himself, and those still in human form were shooting all sorts of curses at him. They wanted to kill Alpha and take over the pack.

“They got Dreyden, Thomas, and Knox—I don't think you knew them—and a few doms were injured trying to protect Alpha. And—” Ulrich's voice caught, and he looked away.

“Ulrich?” Harry asked uncertainly, “what happened?”

“The idiot, Tavish, he saw what was happening and ran out to help—his upper chest got shredded by an attacking wolf, and Adina came out after him and pulled him out of the way before any real harm could be done, but Alpha...” Ulrich's anguished expression seemed to fade a little as a small smirk took its place.

“What? What happened?”

“He went berserk,” Ulrich replied, his smirk never wavering. “Threatening his pack is one thing, but his mates? I've never seen him so enraged. Tavish and Alpha will be all right, the Healers tell me that there will be no lasting damage, and I've been sort of...given a temporary Alpha position while Alpha recovers. Most of the Rogues have been killed, and those that got away don't pose any sort of threat to us anymore.”

“But...but Alpha and Tavish are okay, right?” Harry asked uncertainly, and Ulrich frowned.

“Tavish will be fine. He'll be scarred, but otherwise he'll make a full recovery. Alpha...our Healers _say_ he will be all right, but we won't know for sure until he wakes up,” Ulrich replied softly, and Harry felt his stomach immediately tie up in knots. Fenrir Greyback was far from a person that Harry would consider a _friend,_ but he certainly recognized that everything he did, he did for his pack. He couldn't help but respect him for that.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Harry asked, and his dominant smiled warmly at him, before he leant in for a gentle kiss.

“You have your own healing to do,” Ulrich said firmly, “focus on yourself for a change.”

“You _said_ I was fine...” Harry pointed out, and Ulrich snorted.

“You _will be_ fine,” he replied, “provided you don't over-exert yourself by playing nursemaid to everyone who was injured in the battle.” Ulrich arched a brow pointedly, and Harry snorted.

“Are _all_ dominant werewolves like this?” he asked, and Ulrich arched a confused brow.

“Like what?”

“Ridiculous mother hens.”

“What, you'd rather I _not_ care that my partner nearly got himself killed... _again_?” Ulrich asked as he cocked a brow at Harry, and he felt his face grow a little warm at the pointed use of the word _again_.

“It's not that,” Harry replied, “I'm glad that you care, it's just...I'm _fine_. I don't need to sit here like a lump when I can help—”

Ulrich cut off Harry's words with a kiss.

It startled him at first, but Harry was quick to relax into it and kiss him back, though it was much more short-lived than he would have liked. As Ulrich pulled back, he subtly licked his lips, as though Harry was some sort of wonderful taste that he wished to savour.

“The best thing you can do right now is sit tight and focus on getting well,” Ulrich said firmly, the _no arguments_ tone clear in his voice. “I mean it, Harry,” he added when Harry did not immediately answer, “be selfish for once, and take care of yourself.”

With a defeated huff Harry slumped back against his pillows and crossed his arms.

“Fine.”

 

~*~

 

Despite Ulrich's insistence that Harry was fine, he was still confined to the healing cabin four days later.

Harry stared at the ceiling, an open book propped against the chest, and he drifted, both painfully bored, and anxious to get out of this bloody bed. He felt _fine_.

He growled as he lay there, his thoughts lapsing back to the night before.

 

_Harry slipped from the sickbed and slipped into his trainers that sat at his bedside. The blackness of the cabin covered his escape attempt nicely, and slowly, he began to tiptoe towards the door._

_At least, he_ thought _he was covered._

“ _Potter,” a gruff voice whispered suddenly, and Harry skidded to a stop._

_He turned and saw Alpha standing nearby, his arms crossed awkwardly around the bulky bandages that covered his left arm, swathed across his chest and right shoulder, while a brace encased his right leg from knee to foot. He grimaced a little at being caught, and frowned at the leader, who glared right back._

“ _If my infuriatingly mollycoddling subs are forcing me to stay here,” he began, his voice little more than a low growl, “there is no way in hell that I'm letting you get away with sneaking off. You need to suffer the overprotectiveness of your mate just like the rest of us. Get your arse back in bed before I put you there.”_

“ _But, Alpha—” Harry began, but Greyback cut him off quickly._

“— _no buts. Ulrich has been a royal pain in the arse about your condition, and I'm not about to face his wrath for letting you sneak off. Bed, now.”_

_Grumbling, Harry stomped back to his bed._

 

The memory burned in him, and he felt a deep sense of frustration at this incessant mothering. Why was it that whenever he said he was fine, no one believed him?

In addition to the drama of Greyback's apparent sentry duty over the healer's cabin, it seemed as though Ulrich had taken to guarding the outside of it. However, if the argument that Harry had overheard earlier that day was any indication, it was not without good reason.

 

“ _Bryce,” Ulrich growled, his voice perfectly clear from the outside of the cabin, “what the hell are you doing?”_

“ _I'm going to check in on Alpha,” the other dominant said innocently._

“ _Bullshit,” Ulrich responded, “what are you_ actually _doing?”_

“ _Challenging Alpha,” Bryce replied without an ounce of shame in his tone, “he's on the mend, perfect time for me to take him down and run this pack_ properly _.”_

“ _Like hell you are. Alpha's still healing from the attack, I'm not letting you into this cabin, you'll need to get past_ me _first.”_

 

Suffice it to say, Bryce had _not_ managed to get past Ulrich to kick Greyback while he was down, and Ulrich looked perfectly fine whenever he visited Harry, so he supposed that the fights were fairly one-sided.

 

Harry rolled onto his side, and the book that had lain across his chest tumbled to the floor. He reached down to pick it up, but as he eased back down onto the bed, he caught sight of an envelope on the bedside table. His name was scrawled neatly across the front of it in a familiar hand that he knew _very_ well.

His stomach turning over, Harry reached for it, and his fingers seemed to tingle as he grasped hold of the yellowed parchment envelope. Harry brought it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. It still smelled of him, and Harry shivered a little.

_Wait, what am I doing?_ Harry thought suddenly with a quick shake of his head, and his insides twisted with guilt. _Even if he_ did _save my life, I shouldn't be doing...whatever it is that I'm doing right now._

Without reading the letter, Harry crammed it under his pillow, and it remained hidden there for a further seven days.

In that time, Hermione came to the territory often to see how he was, and when Ulrich was not supervising the pack, he was sitting with Harry, or giving Greyback a report on the goings-on in the pack. Remus never came to visit with him, and Harry had yet to work out how he felt about that.

At the same time, both Tavish and Adina visited with the alpha often, and Harry was privy to a side of his leader that he had never expected to see, and it proved to be highly entertaining, if a little mentally scarring.

 

“ _Fenrir, for the last time, get back in bed!” Tavish cried, the familiarity of the sub calling their alpha by his name was a little strange to hear, and it was met with an irritated growl._

“ _Don't you start, Tavish,” he growled, “I feel fine, stop treating me like I'm fucking five.”_

“ _I'll start and go on as long as I damn well please,” Tavish retorted, his tone much more serious than Harry had ever heard it before. “You almost_ died _. You're still on the mend. Would you please lie down and let your body heal? Ulrich has things under control, and he's not about to usurp you—”_

“— _I know Ulrich won't bloody usurp me,” Greyback snapped, “do I look like an idiot?”_

“ _Do you_ really _want me to answer that?”_

“ _Watch your mouth,” Greyback snapped, “I'm still alpha, I need to—what are you doing now?”_

“ _What does it look like?” Tavish asked, his voice accompanied by a strange sort of shuffling against the floor._

“ _It feels like you're trying to do push-ups against my chest.”_

“ _I'm_ trying _to force you back into bed, you git,” Tavish replied with an annoyed growl._

“ _If you wanted to go to bed with me, all you had to do was ask...”_

 

Harry shook himself out of his memories quickly, not keen to relive the sounds of his alpha and friend performing some sort of depraved sex act not ten feet from where he had been lying. It seemed as though at that point Tavish had stopped caring about Greyback overexerting himself, at least.

When Harry brought his mind back to the present, it took him a moment to realize that he was not alone.

“Hey, Hermione,” he said as he sat up a little straighter.

“Hey,” she replied with a small smile. As with every other time that Harry had seen her, it seemed as though she looked even more physically powerful, as she slowly came in to her strength as a dominant werewolf. “How are you doing?”

“If they don't let me out of here soon, I think I might go mental,” he replied at once, and she laughed softly.

“Oh, I'm sure it's not _that_ bad,” she said consolingly, and Harry snorted.

“It's bad. I feel _fine_ but no one will let me out of here. I've tried to sneak off a few times, and I keep getting caught...”

“Who caught you?”

“Alpha the first time, then the matron—Daanish, then Ulrich,” Harry replied, ticking them off on his fingers as he spoke.

“I'm sure Alpha wasn't pleased that you were trying to sneak off,” she said reasonably, and Harry huffed another laugh.

“He's kind of in the same boat as me—all of our partners have turned into ridiculous mother hens, and won't listen to us when we say that we're fine. Ulrich about blew a gasket and literally carried me back in here, and wouldn't put me down until we reached my bed, _then_ he threatened to tie me down if he caught me out of the cabin again.”

“Kinky.”

“You're hilarious,” Harry replied sarcastically, and rolled his eyes. She smiled at him, but didn't answer.

 

~*~

 

A further three days after Hermione's most recent visit, the pack's matron, the young male sub named Daanish, approached Harry's bed with a warm smile. Before the attack, Harry hadn't known him particularly well, given that he was one of the mated subs and spent most of his time either in the Healer's Cabin or with his mate, but after his tenure in the cabin, he'd come to find that he reminded Harry a lot of Madam Pomfrey. He was quieter, more reserved, but firm, and even Fenrir Greyback himself shut up and listened when Daanish got on his case about over-exertion, or leaving their sickbeds too soon.

“Well, Harry, I've got some good news for you,” he said brightly as he approached his bedside.

“Does this news involve being allowed to leave this bed?” Harry asked, and he chuckled softly.

“It does, actually,” he replied, “you're perfectly well to rejoin the pack and take up your duties again. Your mate brought some fresh clothes by for you to change into when you're ready to go.” Daanish held out the stack of clothing, and Harry was halfway out of the bed before the matron held up his hand to stop him. “ _But_ ,” he said firmly, “I want you to take it easy. Your body has healed, but you will find that you will tire easily for the next little while, so if you do not want to end up back here, I suggest you avoid over-exerting yourself. Am I making myself clear?”

“Clear,” Harry said as he accepted the clothes from him, “thanks for taking care of me. Are you releasing Alpha soon, too? I think he's caused about as much trouble for you as I have.”

“Alpha still has some healing to do, but he'll probably be released tomorrow,” Daanish replied with a chuckle, “but his mates are helping me keep him here, I can't say the same for them helping me keep him from _overtaxing_ himself, however.” He arched a suggestive brow, and Harry flushed a deep crimson.

“Yes, I've heard,” Harry replied dryly, “you've got your work cut out for you.”

“You could say that,” Daanish said with a small smile, and lifted his hand in a casual farewell. “I need to see to my duties, Harry. And remember what I said.”

“I will, thanks,” Harry replied, and Daanish nodded as he stepped away from Harry's bed and saw to his other patients.

Harry shed the pyjamas quickly, and pulled on the clothes that Ulrich had left for him—jeans, a grey T-shirt, and a black, fitted jumper. He slipped his trainers on and had taken three steps away from the bed when he faltered, and turned back to it.

His mind awash with uncertainty, he hurried back to it, dug under his pillow, and extracted the worn, creased envelope that Remus had left for him. He regarded it for a moment, his hands shaking a little, but his nerve failed him, and still he found himself unable to open it.

Harry folded the parchment in half and crammed it into his pocket before he hurried out the door.

It was late in the day, but after spending so much time staring at the ceiling of the healer's cabin and little else, the pack territory seemed to be almost overwhelmingly large, bright—and _loud_.

The volume of the territory was made worse when a steady stream of his pupils began to approach him, their eyes wide with hope.

“Harry!” Gina cried as she rushed forward, “you're better!”

She skidded to a halt just short of Harry, while he laughed at her exuberance.

“I am,” he replied with a small smile, “sorry about having to cut your lessons short, but...”

“Oh, that's fine,” she interrupted while she waved her hand dismissively, “but you're starting them again soon, right? I mean, now that Jade's pups can be handled by the dominants, you won't need to guard her anymore!”

“We'll see,” Harry replied with a short laugh, and Gina beamed at him.

Just as the little girl took her leave, Harry caught sight of a familiar dominant crossing the territory towards him, and he held up a hand as Ulrich approached in an effort to stop him scooping him up like some sort of ragdoll.

“Daanish released me, so you don't need to drag me back there,” Harry said, and Ulrich smirked as he coiled an arm around Harry's waist and drew him close.

“Oh, I know,” Ulrich purred as he leant in to kiss Harry, then nipped lightly at his bottom lip. Someone nearby wolf-whistled at them, and Harry felt his face go rather red, while Ulrich chuckled softly, clearly unembarrassed by his show of affection towards his sub. “There was somewhere else I was planning on dragging you off to.” He rotated his hips against Harry's groin to emphasize his point, and Harry let out a soft groan—it had been _so_ long.

Ulrich did not wait for a proper reply, and instead began to lead Harry back towards the cabins. Grinning, Harry eagerly followed.

 

Harry fell back against the mattress, and moaned as Ulrich's mouth covered his own in a rough, demanding kiss.

The pair grappled at each other's clothes, and once everything had been shed, Harry grabbed hold of Ulrich shoulder, and pushed at him until he turned and lay down on his back, and Harry was perched on top of him.

“My turn,” Harry murmured, and leant down to kiss him once, while Ulrich grabbed the lubricant from the bedside and handed it to him. He grinned at his sub and folded his arms behind his head while he waited to see what Harry was up to.

“I've always wanted to try this,” Harry said softly as he coated Ulrich's cock with the lube, set the jar aside, then balanced himself on his haunches as he lined up Ulrich's cock with his hole. Ulrich's eyes widened as Harry lowered himself down, and applied just enough pressure for the tip of the dominant's cock to barely breach his entrance, then pulled back. Harry did this a few times before he lowered himself properly onto the almost comically large cock, his calves shaking a little from the strain of maintaining the same position for so long.

Beneath him, Ulrich let out a soft groan of pleasure, and reached out to help Harry keep his balance, until Ulrich was fully sheathed inside him. Harry paused, panting hard, his arse clenching around the delicious sensation of the cock in his arse, and after a moment, he slowly began to move.

Harry bounced in Ulrich's lap, spearing himself on his dominant, while Ulrich grunted and arched his hips to meet him. Ulrich let out a feeble whine beneath him as he groaned and found his release first, then immediately reached out and stroked Harry to orgasm.

Hot, panting, and sticky, Harry rolled off of Ulrich and shifted into the offered embrace. They shared a drowsy, sloppy kiss, and Ulrich quickly nodded off while he continued to clutch onto Harry like he was some sort of oversized teddy bear. As Harry lay there, he felt a creeping sense of frustration overwhelm his post-coital bliss.

Once more, Harry felt content, but again, like something was _missing_.

_I don't miss Remus,_ Harry thought firmly, _I'm just not used to being with Ulrich like this yet, that has to be it..._

Frustrated with himself, Harry shifted closer to his mate, and slowly he fell into an uneasy sleep.

 

~*~

 

The following morning, Harry woke to an empty bed, and made quick work of bathing and dressing—in the same clothes as yesterday—given that he hadn't worn them for long the day before, and he headed out for breakfast.

After he accepted a bowl of roasted meat, fried eggs, and roasted potatoes from the cooks, he looked around the circle at the other members of the pack tucking into late breakfasts, and his heart fell a little when he saw Tavish snuggled up with Greyback, and seemed to be pressing food on the dominant while they talked softly together.

It was an incredibly rare sight to see Tavish and his mate together like that, and Harry was loath to disturb them, though at the same time he did not relish eating alone. However, he spotted Jade and her wet nurse not too far away, alternating between eating their own breakfasts and tending to the quadruplets.

“Harry!” Jade chirped as he approached, and he smiled at the young mother. “Nice to see you up and about, how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” Harry replied with a small smile, “how are the kids? I'm bedridden for a fortnight and they've already gotten so much bigger.”

“Well, you would too if all you did was eat and sleep all day,” she replied with a small laugh.

“True,” Harry said as he tucked into his food, “but if I tried that, I don't think I'm likely to grow anymore—except sideways.”

As the women laughed, Harry scanned the crowd for Ulrich, but his face fell when he didn't see him. In his cursory glance, he also realized that someone else was missing—Remus.

“Hey,” Harry said suddenly, drawing Jade's attention back to him, “where's R—the Omega? I don't see him.”

“Well he left, didn't he?” Jade asked, and blinked at him, as though confused by his question.

“How d'you mean _left_?”

“I don't know,” she replied with a light shrug, “I remember seeing him talking to Alpha, then he left with an old rucksack. That's all I remember.”

Harry frowned, and his hand fell to the pocket where the untouched envelope still resided. He set aside his barely-touched food, and hurried into the nearby copse of trees, and looked around to make sure he was alone, then extracted the letter from his pocket and slit it open.

He quickly unfolded the piece of parchment, and read the letter. And then a second time, and a third time. The parchment crumpled in his fist as he clutched tightly to it, and he struggled to ignore the way his eyes had suddenly begun to burn.

 

_My Dearest Harry,_

 

_I am writing to you now to apologize properly._

_I am not trying to apologize for all that I have done to you, there is no excusing my past behaviour, and I see now that there was no chance that I could ever make it up to you._

_I apologize now for coming to the territory, and interrupting the life that you have made for yourself here. I see now that I have no part in it, and it was foolish of me to come here and try to force myself back into your life in an attempt to win back your affection._

_It was selfish. When you left after I had turned you, I realized just how truly empty my life was without you in it. You brought a spark of life—of joy to my life that I had been sorely lacking for many years. Even without the presence of our bond, I feel it still—_

_I love you, Harry James Potter._

_I do not say this in an attempt to make you feel guilty, or to try once more to wedge myself between you and your new mate. I am simply stating a fact—I love you. I think now that I always will, regardless what changes between us. Even if I never see you again, I will always, always, love you._

_I have no greater regret than all that I have put you through, and a hundred eternities in the very depths of Hell would not be enough to make up for what I have done to you. I will not make excuses—there are no excuses. I acted selfishly, and in haste. I did not think of what might happen to you by my actions, I feared only that you would become like me._

_I see now that your turning was as inevitable as my feelings for you._

_Please know that I deeply regret much of what has happened between us, but those months after the bond had settled and before the trouble started, those were some of the happiest days of my life. I wouldn't have missed it for the world._

_I wish you all the best, and I hope that you find the happiness that I could not give to you._

 

_All my love,_

_Remus_

 


	16. Fresh Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys, thanks again for the lovely comments on the previous chapter! ^.^ Next update will be August 11th. This is a little shorter than I'd intended, so apologies in advance!

Chapter Sixteen – Fresh Air

 

Three months had passed, and Jade's cubs were now old enough that they did not need constant protection. Greyback shunted Harry back into his role as professor to the pups, all of whom were thrilled that he was back to teaching them. Thankfully, in his time away from the post his pupils had continued their studies, and now they were far enough along with their reading and writing abilities that they could finally move on to learning actual magic.

Harry wove through his students one fine, bright Friday afternoon, and paused occasionally to put out fires with his wand from the kids who seemed to be channelling Seamus Finnegan. At the same time, he reflected on what had happened immediately following Remus's abrupt departure some months before, and not for the first time, he felt a flare of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach at the memory of it.

 

“ _He left this?” Ulrich asked as he looked from the letter to Harry and back again. It had been a week since Remus had left, and the couple had retired to their cabin early that night. Now basking in the afterglow of some very satisfying sex, Harry had nervously handed over the letter detailing Remus's heartfelt farewell._

“ _Er, yeah,” Harry replied awkwardly, and looked away from the dominant. “Are you upset?”_

“ _Why would I be upset?”_

_Harry whirled around, his eyes wide with surprise. Ulrich was smiling softly at him, and he set aside the parchment before he drew Harry closer to kiss him lightly._

“ _I'm glad that you told me, Harry,” he said softly, “I don't like the the idea of secrets between us.”_

“ _I was a little worried you might get upset and...do something,” Harry admitted as he cast his gaze away again, and chewed the inside of his cheek nervously._

“ _Like what?” Ulrich asked, but as his arms tensed around Harry, he had a feeling that the dominant knew exactly_ what _Harry had been alluding to._

“ _Something ridiculously testosterone-fuelled, like going after Remus, or...or...” Harry's voice failed him as images of_ the incident _filled his mind. Even after all this time, he hated how it still affected him so deeply._

“ _I'm not going to lie to you, Harry,” Ulrich said as he reached up to stroke his hair, “I still feel possessive of you. I don't like the scent of other doms on you, or them being too near to you, or any of that, but with Remus out of the territory...I feel less obligated to remind the world—or him—of my claim of you.” He nipped at the shell of Harry's ear, and the sub laughed softly. “That isn't to say that I won't take any opportunity I can to re-stake my claim of you, but...I suppose I feel less nervous with him out of the picture.”_

_Harry regarded the dominant curiously following his statement. He was so different than the other pigheaded dominants of the pack that he had come to know, and so wildly different from Remus—the mild mannered man himself was much more domineering that he'd ever imagined, which had always been a little confusing to Harry._

“ _You're too good to me,” Harry said at last as he reached out to stroke Ulrich's cheek. The muscle twitched into a smile under Harry's thumb, and he pulled the dominant in for another kiss._

 

The memory of it made Harry's gut twist uncomfortably, and in the weeks and months to come, he found that no matter what he did, he still could not stop thinking about Remus.

Harry was desperate to purge the older man from his mind, and as a result, he threw himself into his work and time with Ulrich. However, no matter what he did, Remus's warm, smiling face would always resurface in his mind at the most inopportune moments.

The worst for Harry was when he and Ulrich were intimate.

Despite his best efforts, Harry could not find the same perfect joy that Ulrich seemed to garner from these encounters. It was pleasurable, certainly, and Harry always walked away from it more or less satisfied, but it never felt quite _right._

With Remus, the sex had been all-encompassing. Passionate, intense, and ultimately...loving.

With Ulrich, by comparison, it just...wasn't. Where Remus had been domineering, determined to remind Harry to whom he belonged, Ulrich was sweet and tender. Where Remus had been passionate and loving, Ulrich had been gentle.

It was not unpleasant, far from it, but to Harry, it felt far from satisfying. Harry deeply missed that thrill, that dizzying _passion_ that Remus had always brought to such encounters, and he hated himself for thinking such things when he was supposed to be moving _past_ Remus, not pining for him.

 

“Er, Harry?”

A soft, uncertain voice snapped Harry out of his musings, and he turned to see one of his older students with his hand halfway up.

“Yes, Ethan?” Harry said as he stepped over, and the boy, one of the shier students, seemed to relax.

“Er, I don't really understand this thing, here, how to get the Switching Spell to work?” he said tentatively, as though he half-expected Harry to scold him for not grasping the concept. His nervousness reminded Harry a little of Neville, and Harry offered the pup a small smile as he settled down next to him to explain the concept, and in the process, allowed his mind to drift back to his own school days.

This, unfortunately, led Harry right back to thoughts of Remus.

He was beginning to think that he'd _never_ be rid of his memories of the man. Harry stood up and began to weave through his students again, his mind on autopilot as he went through another explanation of what to practice before they moved on from Transfiguration to Defence, and still, Harry's thoughts were stuck on thoughts of an older man that was _not_ his mate. The guilt was almost overwhelming, and he found that keeping his face blank in front of his students was almost impossible.

 

~*~

 

“Harry, you just miss him,” Hermione said at the next moon as they circled the edges of the territory playing catchup, vocalizing exactly what Harry did _not_ want to hear. In the three moons since Remus's departure, he had not returned to the territory once, and this did little more than heighten Harry's longing to see him, despite his desperate desire to purge all memory of the man from his mind.

“But I don't _want_ to miss him,” Harry protested sullenly, “I want...I want...fucking hell, I have no idea what I want.”

Hermione smiled sadly at him, and reached out to squeeze his forearm.

“I'm not going to tell you what to do with your life, because, well, it's _your_ life,” Hermione said in a gentle, consoling tone of voice. “You and Remus are more miserable apart than you ever were together, and I think...I think that you should follow your heart. If that leads you to Ulrich, or to Remus, or to someone else entirely...that's okay. But what I _do_ think you should do is after the moon, come with me to the Burrow for a day or two.”

Harry's gaze snapped up, and he eyed her quizzically.

“Why?” he asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Harry, you've seen Ginny once since you got out here, and you haven't seen Ron at all. I've been like an owl between you two. I know you're a little bit...er, secluded, up here, but you claimed that you didn't want to lose us. Maybe now would be a good time to come for a visit, get some fresh air...and of course they all know about Ulrich and would love to meet him.”

“So all of this would be an elaborate setup for the Spanish Inquisition, then?” he asked, and Hermione immediately started to giggle.

“Of course not!” she protested, “well...maybe a little,” she amended, and took a moment to compose herself before she continued. “But I _do_ mean it, Harry, I think it would do you good to get out of here for a day or two, if nothing else to get some fresh air, so to speak.”

“And how likely am I to run into...” Harry trailed off, unable to say his name, but Hermione seemed to cotton on straightaway to what he'd been hinting at.

“No chance whatsoever,” she replied at once, and her mouth twitched into a small frown. “He's cut himself off from most of us...he's trying to reintegrate into the wizarding world, and he seems to be doing well, but...he's lonely. He misses you, too.” Hermione paused again, and took a small breath, then barrelled forward. “Harry, I know things went badly last time, but...he misses you, you miss him—you're both _miserable_ apart. There's no bond this time to mess with your heads. What have you got to lose?”

Harry did not immediately answer, but cast his gaze over to Ulrich. So close to the moon everyone was hyperactive and on edge, and he immediately spotted Ulrich with a group of his more advanced Defence pupils, and he was acting for them as some sort of living test dummy. He was jumping and dodging their spells easily, and all of them were laughing gaily, far to giddy by the impending moon to practice seriously. Harry let out a soft, despondent sigh.

“I might lose nothing,” Harry replied as his gaze jumped to the other pack members that he'd grown close with over the past months, “but then...I might lose everything.”

 

~*~

 

They passed the moon without any issues, though Harry was a bit more reserved than usual. He stuck close to his mate, and was in fact even more clingy with Ulrich than usual, and no amount of reassurances were enough to calm the little white wolf's mind. The reason for this, which Harry could articulate more clearly once he'd transformed back the following morning, was quite simple—Ulrich was not Remus.

And Harry _hated_ himself for it.

Ulrich seemed to sense that Harry had something on his mind, but he never pushed, and acted as he always had—patient and supportive, while he reminded Harry often how much he cared for him, and how he could tell him anything. Not that this helped any—the last thing Harry wanted to do was say anything that would hurt Ulrich. He'd been so good— _too_ good to him, and he did not deserve that.

As evening drew around them the day after the full moon, Harry gathered up his courage and stepped over to Greyback, who had been sitting near to the central bonfire, a whittling blade and a block of wood in his hands, clearly taking thirty seconds to himself, before he was dragged back into his pack duties as alpha.

“Er, Alpha?” Harry asked, and he looked up. Upon seeing Harry, he frowned a little.

“What is it, Potter?” he asked, and Harry gritted his teeth at the dominant's biting tone.

“I was wondering if it'd be all right if I went with Hermione when she leaves the territory—just for a day or two,” he said, “it's just—I, er, I haven't really seen any of my friends since coming here, and it'd be nice to see them, since you don't let humans in the territory and—and things.”

Harry counted a full forty-five seconds before the alpha finally spoke again.

“You have duties here, so don't be gone for more than two days at most,” he replied gruffly, “will your mate be going with you?”

“We...I haven't talked to him about it yet,” Harry said, and looked away from Greyback to poke at a stone on the ground with the tip of his trainer.

“Talk to your mate first,” Greyback said firmly, “I won't have you disappearing and leaving my beta in a right state because you don't know how to fucking communicate. Clear?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Harry said quickly, “and...thanks.” Greyback grunted, but did not properly respond, and Harry used this as an opportunity to take his leave of him.

 

Harry wove through the territory and the pack members going about their day while he looked for Ulrich. He felt a niggling sense of unease at Greyback's word choice— _mate._ This wasn't the first time someone had referred to Ulrich as such, but Harry couldn't quite pinpoint why it bothered him. It wasn't as though it was an incorrect term; Ulrich _was_ his mate.

 

_So why does it bug me so much?_

 

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he knew _exactly_ why, but he couldn't bring himself to even formulate the thought. He needed to get _over_ Remus, not go running back to him.

He found Ulrich in deep conversation with one of the other dominants, a familiar white-haired, but youthful dominant. He recognized him as the man who had been with Ulrich when he'd found Harry on the day of the attack, and he had later learnt that his name was Silas.

Both Ulrich and Silas glanced up when they saw Harry approaching, and Ulrich's face split into a broad smile. Silas rolled his eyes and wandered off as Ulrich made a beeline for Harry, and he pulled him into a close embrace. He kissed Harry once, then as he pulled back a little, his mouth tugged into a small frown.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, “you look worried.”

“Nothing's wrong,” Harry replied at once, and Ulrich relaxed a little. “It's just that Hermione invited me back to the Burrow to catch up with my friends, and I was a little nervous about how you'd feel about that,” he explained in a rush, and Ulrich's grip on him tightened a little. “You can come if you want,” Harry added quickly, “but I wasn't sure how you'd feel surrounded by a bunch of wizards. They all want to meet you, you know, they're...they're like my family.”

Harry fell silent following his rushed explanation, and he watched Ulrich's eyes dart left and right rapidly as he thought over what Harry had said. While Harry waited, he reached down and squeezed Ulrich's hand. The dominant's gaze dropped to their intertwined fingers, and he squeezed Harry's hand back.

“They really mean a lot to you?” Ulrich asked, his tone uncertain as he looked into Harry's eyes. Immediately, he smiled and nodded.

“They do. They're like the family I never had,” Harry replied, and shivered a little when he felt Ulrich's fingers trail along his arm and up to his shoulder, his expression thoughtful.

“I don't like being around wizards, they make me...I don't trust them,” Ulrich began, his tone soft, and Harry frowned. “But, if you care that much for these ones, maybe they aren't all bad. They won't mind if I come with you?”

Harry's expression brightened, and he got on his toes to kiss Ulrich, who appeared startled by the sudden show of affection, but he was still quick to return the kiss.

“They'll love the chance to get to know you,” Harry whispered, mere millimetres from Ulrich's lips, “I promise.”

 

~*~

 

“You doing what, exactly?” Tavish had asked when Harry explained where he was going while he re-packed his rucksack.

“I'm going to visit some friends, that's all,” Harry explained as he crammed another T-shirt into the bag, “just for a day or two. They want to meet Ulrich, and I haven't seen my best mate in ages.” Harry reached for wad of socks, and paused, his brow furrowing in confusion at Tavish's less-than positive reaction. “What?”

“I'm sorry,” Tavish said quickly as he fidgeted in place on his own bed, “it's just...going to see wizards? Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“They're my family, Tavish,” Harry said coldly, and Tavish winced. “Why _wouldn't_ it be a good idea?”

“It's just that...even if they don't mean to...they'll treat you differently,” Tavish explained, while he continued to fidget nervously, “a lot of the turned wolves here tried to keep in contact with their families after the fact, but...it's never the same.”

“They're not like that,” Harry said defensively, and Tavish winced again. “Hermione's been going back and forth for months, and things have been fine. I saw Ron right after I was turned, and Ginny a couple of times, they treated me like they always have.”

“Just...Harry, don't expect too much, all right? And...I know he won't say it, but be careful with Ulrich. Wizards make him very nervous. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that he's terrified of them, so just...keep close to him? Don't leave him on his own with this family of yours, if you can avoid it.”

Harry sat back down on his bed, and regarded Tavish curiously. Wariness around wizards he could understand, but he couldn't picture Ulrich as afraid of anything, and especially not _wizards_. When Tavish offered up no further explanation, Harry spoke again.

“What about them scares him so much?” Harry asked, and Tavish grimaced. When his friend offered up no response, he tried again, “I mean, I understand being cautious around them, but outright fear...?”

“That's not my story to tell,” Tavish replied stiffly, his mouth pulled into a frown, “you'll have to ask him about that one.”

 


	17. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: S/O to KuriQuinn for helping me out with some backstory for this chapter. Thanks, BrainTwin! If any of you guys are into SasuSaku fic, definitely check her out, because she's brilliant. Next update will be out August 18th.

Chapter Seventeen – Family Matters

 

Harry left the Sub House with his rucksack and a heavy heart. He thought back to his initial request that Ulrich accompany him to the Burrow, and he tried to remember whether or not he had pressured Ulrich into coming with him, but he couldn't recall. Ulrich was a true dominant werewolf after all, and if he felt threatened by any of the Weasleys, he would react with teeth first, and words later.

Quite suddenly, Harry wasn't so sure that this trip was a very good idea.

A sudden hand at his waist startled Harry out of his thoughts, and he jumped a little as he looked up to see Ulrich standing next to him. To his reaction, the dominant's easy smile fell a little.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, and Harry smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, I was a million miles away, I didn't see you,” Harry explained, and arched up to kiss him. “You sure you're okay with doing this? You don't have to come with me if you really don't want to, you know.”

“No,” Ulrich replied at once, and his mouth twitched into a small, reassuring smile. “It's all right, I should go with you. Someone should be nearby to keep you out of trouble.”

“They're just my family—” Harry began, but Ulrich was quick to cut him off.

“Not anymore,” Ulrich said softly, but firmly. “Legally, socially, maybe they still are, but now you're all wolf. You may not see a difference, but they will.”

“That's what Tavish said,” Harry mumbled sadly as he inched closer to Ulrich and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist, and Ulrich, in turn, tightened his hold on Harry. “But...they're the _Weasleys._ They never treated Hagrid any different, and he's half-giant!”

“It's not the same thing, Harry,” Ulrich replied gently as he rubbed his back, “being half-giant isn't contagious.”

“We're not a disease,” Harry shot back, and winced at the agonized note in his voice.

“No, we're not,” he agreed, “but many wizards still see us like that.”

“Hermione's been going back and forth for months with no problems,” Harry pointed out, his tone of voice becoming rather desperate, “and—and er...” he trailed off as he grimaced, his thoughts jumping back to Remus before he could stop himself. Unwilling to think on him, Harry held more tightly onto Ulrich, and pressed his cheek against his chest.

“If they're your family, I'm sure your judgment of them is better than mine,” Ulrich said in the same gentle tone, and he bowed forward to brush his lips against Harry's temple.

“They're really good people,” Harry said softly, though between Ulrich and Tavish's mistrust, the idea of seeing the Weasleys again was suddenly very nerve-wracking. “I promise that you have nothing to worry about.”

“Let's go, then,” Ulrich said, and despite the brave front, Harry could all but feel the man's nervousness in his body language and the faint quiver in his voice. Harry took a small breath to steady himself, as he took the man's hand and offered it a small squeeze as they headed for the territory's Apparition Point, then Harry led his mate away by Side-Along Apparition.

 

The pair reappeared just outside the Burrow, and Harry bit back a laugh when he saw Ulrich's perplexed expression as he took in the shape of the house, his mouth was open a little, and his eyes were wide and staring.

“What...?” he began, but at that same moment, the front door burst open with a sharp _bang!_ which caused Ulrich to jump a little in surprise, but Harry barely noticed this as his focus was entirely on Molly Weasley standing in the doorway.

“Oh, _Harry!_ ” she cried, and bustled forward to envelop Harry in a tight, motherly hug. He let out a small, choking squeak, and next to him he heard Ulrich let out a small, warning growl. Harry felt his throat grow tight at the sound of it, his mind jumping back to Remus's similar reaction at his first birthday at the Burrow with Remus, but he forced himself to stay present as he returned the hug and surreptitiously kicked Ulrich in the shin to shut him up. “It's just so wonderful to see you, dear! How long is it?”

“Six months, I think,” Harry replied with a small laugh as he pulled back from her, and she held him at arm's length as she looked him over.

“Goodness, what _have_ you been eating, dear? You're skin and bone! Come inside, Arthur will love to see you while I fix you something to eat,” Molly said in a rush, and then turned to Ulrich, who was well over a foot taller than her, and she smiled warmly at him.

“And you must be Ulrich,” she said kindly, and he nodded his head a little. “Of course,” Molly continued, “Hermione has told us _all_ about you, and how good you've been for Harry, and goodness knows that girl's hard to please. Come along, you two,” she turned and began to lead them inside, and while struggling to stifle a grin, Harry took Ulrich's hand and led him up the walkway. The dominant's movements were stiff at first, but ever so slowly he fell into step with Harry, and he allowed the sub to guide him into the house.

The inside of the house was exactly as Harry remembered it—it even _smelled_ the same. Barring Hogwarts, and now the territory as well, in stepping into the Burrow, he felt as though he'd come home. Next to him, Ulrich seemed far less pleased about being there, but he seemed to be putting on a brave face for Harry. Harry extricated his hand from the dominant's and wrapped it around his forearm to offer it a small squeeze.

“Just breathe,” Harry whispered, softly enough that Molly wasn't likely to overhear, “they're good people, they won't hurt you.”

Ulrich grunted as though he seriously doubted that, but allowed Harry to gently lead him from the front door and into the kitchen, where Molly was puttering about and throwing together half a dozen roast beef sandwiches for each of them.

“I've been hearing a lot of the goings-on from Hermione, of course, my daughter-in-law-to-be,” Molly continued as she flicked her wand here and there, and summoned a few bottles of butterbeer to go with the sandwiches, as well as an enormous platter of crisp, freshly fried chips. “But it has been a learning curve for all of us, this...thing. We were all so worried when you ran off to see Mr Greyback, especially after everything with Bill...”

“A lot of the stuff about him is really exaggerated,” Harry intercepted quickly when he felt Ulrich tense next to him, “he's been...well... _nice_ isn't really a word I'd use for Fenrir Greyback, but he's got all our best interests at heart. He even gave me a sort of teaching job, and it's been great.”

“Teaching?” Molly queried as she levitated the food over to the table, and Harry was quick to grab a sandwich. “That would be an ideal job for you, especially after your illegal study group during your OWL year—” Harry felt himself flush at the note of disapproval in her voice before she added, “but, Ron always said that you were rather a good teacher.”

Harry bowed his head a little in embarrassment at the compliment as Molly sat down across from the pair, and she shifted her gaze over to Ulrich.

“And what about you, Ulrich, was it?” Molly asked, and he nodded stiffly. “Hermione has told me that you're the second-in-command at your...erm, _pack_. That must be quite the responsibility.”

At first, Ulrich didn't speak, but seemed somewhat alarmed at Molly's complete lack of judgment in her tone of voice.

“It's challenging,” Ulrich replied at last, though his tone was still rigid and awkward. “Egos being what they are, the dominants don't like to listen when they're told to _not_ do something.”

Harry reached under the table and offered Ulrich's hand a small squeeze, which he returned. At the same moment, the back door burst open, which caused Ulrich to jump again, just as Arthur Weasley burst into the kitchen in grease-stained coveralls and a huge smile on his face.

“Harry!” he cried, and Harry felt Ulrich tense next to him. A witch was one thing, but a fully qualified _wizard_ was probably putting Ulrich extra on-edge. He threaded his fingers through Ulrich's as the elder Weasley stepped over to the table. “Good to see you, good to see you! We heard that you were coming for a visit; it's been too long, my boy. And this must be the famous Ulrich!”

Harry exchanged a look with Ulrich, and bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to not react to the look of utter bewilderment on the dominant's face, then turned back to Arthur with a small smile.

“Yep,” Harry said at last, “that's him.”

 

It wasn't the most comfortable luncheon in the world, but on the whole, it could have been a lot worse. It was something of a small mercy that Ulrich had the better part of the afternoon to get used to the Weasley matriarch and patriarch before all hell broke loose that evening, because Harry was certain that it would have not gone over nearly as well if Ulrich hadn't had some time to grow accustomed to his surroundings before the Burrow was flooded with people.

 

And _Flood_ wasn't too far off the mark, either.

By late afternoon, Weasley children with their respective spouses had begun to trickle into the Burrow—Bill and Fleur, Percy and Audrey, George and Angelina, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Draco(at the appearance of his ex and former rival, he could not help but notice how Molly and Arthur's smiles had become rather fixed), and even Charlie popped in to say hello.

Harry was thrilled to see everyone, but the same could not be said for Ulrich, who was doing a remarkable impression of a mouse in a lion's den.

Harry didn't want to leave Ulrich alone, both from Tavish's plea and the nervous look that never quite left Ulrich's face. He doubted that the others had noticed it, except perhaps Hermione, who could likely sense his fear, but his unease was bad enough that even George did not try to pull any pranks on him, and merely chatted with the couple, while consistently trying to keep Ulrich from feeling excluded, for which Harry was grateful.

The scant few times that Harry had to leave Ulrich's side, Hermione was quick to swoop in and keep him company. The presence of another pack member—besides Harry, that is—amongst all the human scents was what seemed to help Ulrich relax the most, though not enough for him to feel completely at home.

“So how is it that a bloke like you wound up with a specky midget like Harry?” a sudden voice said, and Harry looked up to see Charlie making his way over to them. Harry choked on his drink at the remark, while Ron snorted loudly. Ulrich, on the other hand, looked entirely bewildered by the ginger as he stopped in front of them, a finger of whisky in his hand and a grin plastered across his face.

“A bloke like...me?” he repeated uncertainly, and glanced towards Harry in confusion.

“Yeah,” Charlie replied, “you're...y'know... _fit_. Mate, I don't mean Harry's hideous by any means, but I never pegged him for having the charisma to attract someone like _you_.”

Ulrich appeared more confused than ever. Harry, on the other hand, felt a strange prickling sensation across his skin, and he stepped in between Ulrich and Charlie. The ginger started slightly, as though he'd only just noticed that Harry was there.

“I'm sure you could find a werewolf of your very own if you looked hard enough,” Harry said stiffly. The warning in his tone seemed to be enough, and Charlie lifted his hands in mock surrender. He lifted his glass in a silent toast, then headed over to where Bill and Fleur were standing with four-year-old Victoire, and struck up a conversation with them.

“What...what just happened?” Ulrich asked, the note of total bewilderment still present in his voice.

“He was remarking on how painfully attractive you are, and trying to chat you up—though I think he was a bit drunk,” Harry explained, and narrowed his eyes at Charlie from across the room.

“If _I'm_ not allowed to growl and glare at your family members, then neither can you,” Ulrich teased as he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist ad tugged him a little closer. He nuzzled Harry's neck for a brief moment, and the colour rose in his cheeks as Ulrich added, “he can try to chat me up as much as he likes, but there's no one for me but you.”

Quite suddenly, Harry's jealousy was replaced by guilt.

He busied himself with his butterbeer, and hoped that Ulrich didn't notice.

 

~*~

 

The visit seemed to be going remarkably well, and Molly and Arthur both insisted that they—along with everyone else—spend the night.

The couple was ushered into the new room on the top floor of the house. Ulrich appeared reluctant to agree to the offer, but caved quickly to Harry's pleading look—though he didn't look at all happy about it.

Molly appeared positively thrilled at having a full house once more. She bustled about, dividing up spare blankets and pillows, pressing cups of hot cocoa and biscuits on everyone, until Arthur all but ordered her to sit down and enjoy their company, which she finally did, while smiling and doting on everyone equally—even Ulrich.

When they finally turned in for the night, Ulrich paced about the room uneasily, while Harry stretched out luxuriously on the bed and watched his progression calmly. He didn't like how stressed Ulrich looked, and Harry waited close to a full minute before he finally spoke.

“If you scent-mark the room, Molly will kill me,” Harry remarked, and reached out an arm for him. “Come to bed, no one's out to get us here. If you're so worried about it, we can always ward the room, but that not might be the best idea, unless you want to get up tomorrow morning to an endless stream of sexual innuendo.”

Ulrich snorted, and reluctantly shuffled over to the bed, where he stretched out next to Harry fully clothed. Harry climbed halfway on top of him, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips while his hands worked at rubbing Ulrich's shoulders and upper arms. They were so tense that Harry thought they felt more like stone instead of muscle.

“How come you're so nervous, Ulrich?” Harry asked gently, “the Weasleys gave you a much nicer welcome than they gave Fleur or Draco, so...” Harry trailed off, and shook his head a little, “you don't have to say if you don't want to, I just—” Ulrich interrupted Harry's words with a kiss of his own, and he caressed Harry's cheek lightly for a moment before he pulled back, leaving Harry feeling rather dazed.

“It's all right, Harry, I can talk about it. You should know anyway, since you're still so involved with... _wizards_...” Ulrich paused and looked away from Harry; the distant look in his eyes was one that Harry had not seen before, and Ulrich's arms tensed around his mate.

“It was a long time ago,” Ulrich began, “it was around the beginning of the First Wizarding War—”

“—hold on,” Harry interrupted, _“First_ Wizarding War? When you were like an infant? You don't look older than thirty!”

“Werewolf lifespan, remember?” Ulrich arched a brow, and Harry stared back with a blank look. “Those who accept the wolf more quickly, their lifespan is extended, and we age more slowly.”

“So how old _are_ you, then?”

“Forty-eight,” Ulrich replied with a small shrug, and Harry stared in surprise, but Ulrich ignored it, and launched back into his story. “At the time, I was involved with this really wonderful man, not unlike your friend Hermione in a lot of ways. He was brilliant, smart, caring...but much more prejudiced than I realized—until it was too late.

“I was out late, back then I was apprenticing as a Healer, and as an apprentice, I was always given the late shifts that no one in their right mind would want. I was young. Foolish.” Ulrich shifted uncomfortably, but paused his narrative for only a moment before he pressed on.

“It was a lovely spring night, so I thought I'd take the long way back to our flat, and I Apparated to this forest path not far from where we were living at the time, and I was attacked by a rogue werewolf.” Ulrich paused again, and let out a soft hiss in frustration as he raked his free hand through his hair. “I _still_ have no idea who bit me, I never found them. Anyway, I hurried back to St Mungo's, and they patched me up and contacted my partner. Since I was of age, they didn't contact my family, which was good, I think. They wouldn't have approved of their only son becoming a—a _monster_.”

Ulrich's arms tensed around Harry, still lost in memory. Harry reached up and threaded his fingers through Ulrich's hair. He stroked the long, dark locks while he listened, and the gentle touch seemed to calm him, and slowly, Ulrich returned to his story.

“After I was released from hospital, Steven was convinced that he could _fix_ me,” Ulrich sneered, a note of disgust in his voice. However, Harry noted that it sounded less like disgust at his former partner's attitude, and more like disgust at _himself_ for letting it happen. “He had been a Slytherin back at school, and he had always been very intelligent and ambitious, so he was certain that he could create a potion like wolfsbane, but one that would turn me human again.

“I was so overwhelmed at the time; becoming a dominant werewolf isn't like becoming a sub. Your body goes though a lot more physical changes, and you're flooded with hormones...it's like having a second puberty. All this time, Steven was pressing weird experimental potions on me, and I was just so messed up, I didn't know what to do, so I just drank them. I always trusted him before now, why would he hurt me?”

“Oh, Ulrich...” Harry said softly, and his voice seemed to snap the dominant out of his daze, and he turned back to Harry. Harry felt his heart break a little—Ulrich looked so ashamed.

“Those potions...” Ulrich continued, his voice breaking a little as he spoke, “they just made everything worse. I was so ill. I was ill _all_ the time. I asked him to stop, but he said he refused to be in a relationship with a _monster_. He said he _had_ to fix me. He tried to jinx me, to force me to take his latest potion, but he forgot that most commonplace spells won't work on us, and I ran. I ran so far...” Ulrich trailed off again when his voice caught, and Harry immediately leant up to kiss Ulrich gently.

“I'm so sorry that you had to go through that,” Harry whispered, and kissed him again.

“I know your family isn't like that,” Ulrich replied just as softly in between fevered kisses, “it's just hard to break out of that mindset, but, having Hermione here, she smells like pack, as does that other boy...Buck?”

“Bill,” Harry corrected, “it was Alpha who...hurt him.”

They kissed again, both at a loss for how to continue the conversation, and after Ulrich's heartfelt confession, Harry could all but feel his desperate need for release. He rolled over and pinned Harry beneath him, then devoured his mouth again. Harry let out a needy groan, but at that same moment—

 

_Knock, knock._

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry hissed, and slumped back against the pillows, while Ulrich laughed softly into the crook of his neck.

 

_Knock, knock._

 

“ _Potter?_ ” Malfoy's voice called from the other side of the door, though it sounded odd, as though his nose had been plugged up, “ _I know you're awake, I can hear you two grunting like a pair of mating zebras or something in there_.”

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry called back, and just barely managed to bite back a groan as Ulrich went back to giving Harry his full, undivided attention. He licked his way down the side of Harry's throat while he slipped his large hand under the waistband of Harry's pyjama bottoms, as though he hadn't noticed Malfoy on the other side of their door.

“ _Your help, you arse,_ ” he snapped. _“George decided to test out one of his ridiculous products on me again, and I can't go back to Ginny's room looking like this._ ”

“Just—just o-one second,” Harry choked out, and he heard Malfoy let out a frustrated groan from the other side of the door. Harry bit his bottom lip as Ulrich squeezed his budding erection, and Harry kissed him hard as Ulrich stroked him with sure, steady movements, and almost embarrassingly quickly, Harry orgasmed, his seed staining the front of his pyjama bottoms white.

Harry cleaned himself up with a quick flick of his wand, and arched up to kiss Ulrich once more.

“Just let me see what this is about, then I'll return the favour,” Harry whispered, “Malfoy would _never_ ask for my help in a million years, so whatever it is, it ought to be good.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Ulrich replied smoothly, and kissed Harry again before he reluctantly let him go, and Harry walked over to the door, his legs feeling pleasantly like jelly as he moved.

“Okay, Malfoy, what—Oh. My. God.” Harry stared, and Malfoy glared back at him.

“Not _one_ word, Potter,” Malfoy growled as he shouldered into the room, his face beet-red with embarrassment.

“Well, that certainly gives a whole new meaning to the phrase _cock-face_ ,” Harry remarked, and Malfoy glared daggers at him.

“I said not one word!” he snapped, “this isn't funny. _Help me_.”

“Hey, when you blush it gets erect!” Harry remarked, and reached out to tug at the penis jutting out from where Malfoy's nose was supposed to be, and he glared at him again.

“Don't touch it!”

“I wonder what'll happen if you sneeze?”

“You are _disgusting_.”

“I happen to know a tricky little jinx that will _make_ you sneeze, just to test it out...”

“Potter, don't you _dare,_ ” Malfoy growled, “get this damn thing off me!”

“Why not just ask Ginny to blow it off for you?”

“If she saw me like this, she'd die laughing, then never let me forget it!”

“Your rivalry really wasn't exaggerated, was it?”

Harry and Malfoy both turned to Ulrich at his comment, and he arched a brow at the pair of them. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

“We do not sound like an old married couple!” both Harry and Malfoy burst out at once, then glared at each other. Ulrich snorted, but offered up no comment.

“Okay, I'll help you,” Harry said as he turned back to Malfoy, and the blond's eyes narrowed at Harry's grin that had spread across his face. “I'm not a _prick_ , and I know when to lend a _hand_.”

“I hate you,” Malfoy grumbled as he shuffled over to the writing desk in the corner of the room and sat on it, while Harry stood in front of him with his wand, and muttered a string of incantations under his breath. Surprisingly, it was a much simpler transfiguration that Harry had expected, and within minutes, Malfoy's nose was back to normal.

“Done,” Harry proclaimed, and Malfoy's hands shot up to paw at his face.

“It's gone?”

“Of course, Malfoy,” Harry replied sweetly, “I wouldn't _cock_ it up, not when you asked for my help so nicely.”

Malfoy glared at the pun, while Ulrich turned his snort of laughter into a very false-sounding cough.

“I can't believe I asked for _your_ help,” Malfoy grumbled as he crossed his arms.

“Don't be such a _stiffy_ , Malfoy,” Harry quipped with a wide grin, “we're practically Weasleys once removed at this point, I'd never ignore a family _member_ in need.”

“It'd be a cold day in Hell before I call Harry-fucking-Potter my _family_.”

“ _Now_ who's being a prick?”

“Oh, I've had just about enough of this.”

“No you haven't.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Malfoy stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Distantly, Harry could hear muffled laughter coming from one of the rooms down the hall.

Grinning, Harry turned back to Ulrich, who was watching him with a small smile of amusement.

“You really know how to wind him up, don't you?” Ulrich remarked, and Harry shrugged as he stepped back over to his mate.

“It's a gift. We've been at each other's throats since first year, so now it just comes naturally,” Harry replied as he clambered back into the bed, and snuggled close to Ulrich. Without missing a beat, he pressed a hand into the centre of Ulrich's chest, and trailed it down to the front of his jeans. “Let's get you out of these uncomfortable clothes, eh? I do believe I promised to return the favour for earlier...”

Ulrich's mouth stretched into a grin, and he shed his clothes quickly, while Harry mirrored the expression as he flicked his wand at the door to cast a Silencing Charm, then contented himself to enjoy Ulrich's company for the rest of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is one of those moments where a few of my test subjects remarked that the Draco scene was stupid, and some thought it was funny. I decided to keep it anyway, because my maturity level in regards to my sense of humour is pretty low. So, some of you might find it funny, and some of you might find it stupid. Oh well.
> 
> Just for clarification – your humble author is, in fact, a Slytherin. Ulrich's ex was ambitious as well as super smart, which, to me, lends itself more to Slytherin than Ravenclaw. I didn't stick him in there cuz he was a douchebag. (I get a little defensive about my house >.>)


	18. Sneak Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be August 25th. Please enjoy this week's instalment!

Chapter Eighteen – Sneak Attack

 

They were halfway through breakfast the following morning when it happened.

Ulrich was visibly much calmer than he had been the previous night, thanks in no small part to Harry's _attentions_ before they'd gone to sleep. If any of the Weasleys had noticed the reason for his more easygoing mood, they didn't comment on it.

However, Harry was fairly certain that he saw Molly and Arthur exchange a knowing glance more than once.

Malfoy was sullen, and sat next to Ginny with his arms crossed. Harry had reigned in the temptation to wind him up after he saw the cold way in which Molly and Arthur had greeted him, as though they only just barely tolerated his presence at their table. He couldn't help but feel bad for his former rival, but he didn't dare speak on it, given that Harry was fairly certain that Malfoy would not appreciate his pity.

George, on the other hand, looked rather pleased with himself. Angelina had spent most of the meal elbowing him sharply every time it looked as though he was going to comment on the prank he'd pulled on Malfoy the night before.

Harry was just helping himself to a fourth serving of sausages and eggs when an insistent, feverish knocking sounded from the front door. Harry, Ulrich, and Hermione's heads all snapped up, and their gazes whipped towards the door.

Even without Molly answering it, they could all smell who it was at once.

“What the hell is Tavish doing here?” Harry whispered softly as Molly jumped up and bustled over to the door (“All right, all right! I'm coming!”).

“Hell if I know,” Ulrich replied in the same low tone of voice, “he's no great shakes at tracking, which means whatever it is, it's probably not good.”

“D'you think something happened at the pack?” Hermione asked worriedly, and Harry bit his bottom lip nervously when Ulrich's expression darkened.

“I don't know,” Ulrich answered, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before he stood up, “I need to go and see what this is about.”

“I'm coming with you,” Harry replied at once, and narrowed his eyes a little when Ulrich frowned at him. At the same moment, he felt his heart jump into his throat when the sound of Tavish's voice rent the air—he sounded close to tears.

“Who are you?” Molly asked, her voice wary.

“M-my name is Tavish, I'm from the pack, please, _please_ , I know Ulrich is here, I need to see him.”

“All right, he's in the kitchen, why don't you—young man, slow down!”

Harry's argument to the frown Ulrich was giving him was perched on his tongue when Tavish raced into the kitchen. A number of the Weasleys jumped up in alarm at his sudden appearance, including Harry and Hermione, and they quickly circled the table to join their distraught pack member.

Tavish looked awful. His clothes were frayed and tattered; the sleeves of his T-shirt and the cuffs of his jeans were singed, and there was a thin, slowly healing cut on his cheek that seemed to be blistering around the edges.

_Silver_ , Harry realized suddenly.

“Tavish?” Harry asked weakly, “what happened? Are you all right?”

Tavish acted as though he couldn't see Harry, and focused his attention completely on Ulrich. He ran at him and gripped his upper arms tightly, while Ulrich reached forward to help Tavish stay standing as the sub's eyes brimmed with tears.

“Please, please, Ulrich, you have to come home, something awful's happened.”

“What's going on, Tavish? Where's Alpha?” Ulrich demanded, and Tavish let out a soft, choking sob.

“Taken—the wizard Ministry came—t-they said that he was under arrest for murder, but he didn't do anything! When he resisted they attacked with silver, they—they—they took him away, Ulrich, he wasn't even _awake_ when he took him, he might be dead, I don't know, but, please... _please_ , you have to help him!”

“Tavish, I need you to calm down and think,” Ulrich said, his voice unnervingly calm, though Harry could see that the dominant's eyes were wide with horror at what the sub was telling him. “How did the wizards get through our warding?”

“I—I don't know,” Tavish replied, his voice badly shaking, “they broke it or something. We heard a noise, like thunder, but louder, and then suddenly they were _everywhere_.”

“Is everyone else all right?” Ulrich asked, and when Tavish didn't immediately answer, the dominant grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him sharply. “ _Tavish!_ ” the sub yelped and refocused his teary gaze on Ulrich. “Is everyone else all right? Is anyone hurt?”

“A-Adina got hurt when they came for Alpha,” Tavish replied with a wince, “but she's all right, it's not too serious. B-But Bryce took control since you weren't there. I—I didn't know what to do, I—I don't know whether it's better if you go to the Ministry or—or come back to the territory...you know what Bryce is like.” Tavish's voice had dropped to a whisper, and Harry shivered involuntarily. They all knew what Tavish meant without him having to say it; Bryce in charge would be nothing short of a disaster for the pack's unmated submissives.

“I can go on ahead to the Ministry and see what I can find out about these charges against him,” Ron said suddenly, drawing the attention of the four werewolves over to him. In the heat of the moment, Harry had rather forgotten that the others were even there. “If they're trumped up accusations in any way, I'll bring it straight to Kingsley. But...if it's been leaked to the public that he had been released back when Red Moon was still a danger, pressure from the wizarding public might make it harder to secure a release, even _if_ he was falsely accused.”

“Thank you,” Tavish said softly, and sniffed a little as he rubbed at his eyes roughly. “You're Ron, right? Hermione and Harry have mentioned you.”

Ron's ears went very red and he nodded with a meek smile while he crammed a last sausage into his mouth, and stepped over to the kitchen's fireplace.

“I know it's hard, but try to resist storming the Ministry just yet,” he said thickly, “it might do more harm than good.”

“I'm coming with you,” Harry said, and moved to join Ron, but staggered to a halt when Ulrich grabbed his upper arm to stop him. Harry whirled around and shot Ulrich a glare. “Ulrich, I _have_ to!”

“You're not part of them anymore, Harry,” Ulrich shot back firmly, “and I am telling you unequivocally, as your Alpha, to come back to the territory, _now_.”

“I was part of the Aurors, I know how the system works,” Harry protested, completely ignoring the command, “I can help, now let me go!” He yanked on his arm, but instead of letting him go, Ulrich tightened his hold, and Harry whimpered in pain. He tugged Harry forward, and even with his heels pressed firmly against the stone floor, that did not deter the dominant as he dragged Harry back to him.

“I'm not screwing around,” Ulrich growled, “I'm not losing anyone else to the wizard Ministry. You will come back, now, and we're going to regroup. Your friend will go to the Ministry on our behalf, and we are going to take a step back and _wait_ before we go barrelling in. I don't care about anything but getting Alpha back, and I'm not about to risk his freedom for your pigheadedness. _We're going_.”

“Remus would have let me go,” Harry said coldly, and his eyes narrowed into a glare.

The entire kitchen fell into dead silence, and Ulrich looked as though he'd been slapped.

In truth, Harry had no idea if Remus would have 'allowed' him to go, but in his desperation to help, he couldn't think of anything else to say that would convince Ulrich that he could help, and not hinder Greyback's release.

Ulrich's grip on Harry tensed, and he turned suddenly to Hermione. “Will you come with us?” he asked, “I know generally you only spend your moons with us, but we could use all the help we can get right now, and you're more level-headed than most of the other dominants in our pack.”

“Of course,” Hermione said shakily, and exchanged a look with Ron. He nodded once, and disappeared into the Floo, then she refocused her attention back on the other dominant. “What can I do?”

“Keep an eye on this idiot,” Ulrich said in a similar cold tone to the one Harry had used earlier, and shoved him at Hermione. Hermione squeaked in surprise when Harry stumbled into her, but immediately she closed her hands around Harry's forearms to stop him from taking off. “Let's go.”

Ulrich did not even bother saying goodbye to the others, and merely hurried out the door with Tavish at his side. Hermione hastened to follow after muttering a few apologies to the other Weasleys, and went after the beta, dragging a swearing and protesting Harry along with her as she went.

 

~*~

 

The moment they got back to the territory, Harry wrenched himself away from Hermione, and turned furiously towards Ulrich. He opened his mouth to argue, but the unspoken protest was met with a withering glare. Ulrich's lip curled back to show his teeth, and Harry hesitated.

“Watch him,” Ulrich grunted to Hermione and Tavish, and spun on his heel and hurried towards the main area of the territory.

“Harry—” Hermione began, but Harry ignored her as he stormed off towards the edge of the wood, his arms crossed and his expression set in an infuriated scowl. “Harry, please...” Hermione tried again, her tone pleading, but Harry was far too angry to worry about upsetting her further with his foul mood.

“Has everyone forgotten that I'm _not_ fucking helpless?” Harry demanded as he whirled on her, and she flinched as though he'd struck her. “Just because I'm a sub, suddenly I'm some sort of...of... _invalid_. Poor little Harry, can't do _what he was good at,_ he has to be a good little sub and cower in the territory like some sort of...” he clenched his teeth and let out a snarl, and turned to kick at the closest tree, but it did not make him feel him feel any better, and succeeded only in making his foot hurt.

“He's just scared, they all are,” Hermione said consolingly, “please, Harry, don't make this about you—it's not. It's about getting Alpha back, and if you go barrelling in and say or do the wrong thing, it might make things worse, not better.”

“I'm not making this about me!” Harry protested hotly, “I just—I can _help_ , but Ulrich is treating me like a child and not letting me do that!”

Out of nowhere, a sudden searing pain lanced through the side of his face, and Harry staggered back, his hand raising to cup his cheek.

It took Harry a moment to realize that he had been slapped, but not simply slapped, but swiped at with a werewolf's claws, and three deep gouges had been dug into his skin. Harry stared; Tavish was glaring at him, his expression more infuriated than Harry could recall ever seeing it before.

“You don't care about Alpha at all,” Tavish snarled angrily, “you're turning this into some stupid excuse to prove yourself.” His voice shaking so badly from his fury that he could barely articulate the words clearly, and the dangerous tone was more than enough to shock Harry into silence. “My and Adina's _mate_ has been taken away, and all you care about is showing off how you're _not like other subs_. Well, you know what, Harry? I don't care. I don't give a flying fuck if you're the Chosen One, or The Boy Who Lived, or Father fucking Christmas. I _will not_ let you risk my mate's freedom so that you can show off. If you try anything stupid, like sneaking off, I _swear_ , I will kill you.”

Without another word Tavish stormed off, and Harry watched him hurry over to Adina and fold himself into her arms. Even at a distance, he could see a deep gash in the female sub's forearm, and the pair of them were trembling and crying while they tried to console each other.

With his hand still cupped over his bleeding cheek, Harry stomped wordlessly over to the cabins.

“Harry, where are you going?” Hermione asked, her tone still carrying that pleading lilt.

“The Sub House,” Harry grumbled, his eyes focused resolutely forward, and not on his friend who was dogging his steps, “I need to be alone.”

Hermione tried to talk to him, to engage him in conversation, but in his near-blinding rage, Harry didn't catch much of it. She skidded to a halt at the doors of the house, but Harry ignored her hurt and worried look as he slammed the door in her face, and stomped over to his old bed.

Now that he was alone, Harry felt some of his rage begin to evaporate, only to be replaced with a maudlin sort of feeling. He fell heavily onto the bed and stared up at the blank wooden ceiling of the house, while a jumble of contradictory thoughts swept through his mind.

 

_It's not fair, I can help! I'm not useless!_

 

_I should be thinking about Tavish and Adina, it's_ their _mate who was taken..._

 

_Greyback didn't even_ do _anything! What was Sahir thinking, arresting him?!_

 

Harry wasn't certain when he had fallen asleep, but he woke sometime later to a cold nose pressing against his cheek, and the sound of a soft, lupine whine breaking the silence. He cracked one of his sleep-crusted eyes open to take in the sight of the dusky grey wolf at his bedside, and found himself wholly unsurprised that Ulrich had the ability to transform at will.

“You're not supposed to be in here,” Harry chastised in a raspy tone of voice, “aren't you supposed to be off playing alpha or something?”

Ulrich whined, and laved his tongue over the scabbed scratch on Harry's cheek. He winced when the wolf saliva made the hours-old injury sting sharply, but for the moment, didn't move.

There was a loud crunching of bone and an audible grunt, and suddenly Ulrich was sitting on the edge of his bed, naked, and he was regarding Harry with a sad, remorseful look in his eyes. He reached for his mate and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair. Harry accepted the contact with a soft, sad sigh.

“I'm sorry, Ulrich,” Harry muttered softly, “I've been a total arse.”

“I'm sorry too,” Ulrich replied, “I know you're not helpless—hell, we _all_ know that. But it's a difficult situation, and I don't think you quite realize just how the wizard Ministry really sees us. I just...right now, I don't want to take any unnecessary risks.”

Harry reached up for Ulrich's hand and pulled it away from his hair while he closed both of his hands over the dominant's larger one as he sat up. Ulrich barely moved, his head still bowed, and his wave of dark hair fell into his eyes, though he made no attempt to brush it away. He appeared genuinely sorry for giving Harry the brushoff.

“Don't be sorry,” Harry mumbled as he dropped his eyes to the hand in his, “I deserved it. I was a total arse.”

Ulrich chuckled but didn't disagree, and reached out with his free hand to stroke Harry's uninjured cheek.

“We got an answer from your friend, by the way,” he said, and Harry's gaze jerked up, his eyes wide and questioning. His heart seemed to freeze in his chest when he saw the mournful look on Ulrich's face, and held his breath as Ulrich pulled him close and began to stroke his hair with his free hand, then relayed to Harry what Ron had told him. “He's being imprisoned on two counts of murder—the man and child those rogues killed. It didn't help that he wasn't wearing his Portkey thing when they arrested him, so they're holding that against him too, since technically he broke one of the conditions of his release by removing it. Your friend is trying to push for a trial, but given that he's an Auror and not in Magical Law Enforcement, he says there's only so much he can do.”

“But he's innocent—of those murders, at least,” Harry replied while he tried to focus, but the gentle touches were lulling him back to sleep, and his words came out rather slurred. “If Ron can secure a trial, we can prove that—we've got memory evidence.”

“Wizards barely tolerate our kind, and Alpha is infamous to them,” Ulrich replied, his tone even, but Harry could still hear a note of anger in his voice. “It will be nothing short of a miracle if they don't throw him back in Azkaban over some loophole or something.”

“I want to help,” Harry said firmly, though it sounded rather weak to his own ears, given that he felt positively exhausted by all the excitement—in particular, his fight with Tavish. “ _Please,_ I can help.”

“We'll discuss it in the morning,” Ulrich said soothingly, and reached for Harry again. “Come home with me? I'll patch you up, too.”

 

_Home._

 

Strangely, Harry found himself genuinely conflicted about whether or not he wanted to go with Ulrich for the night. He was still more than a little irritated at his brushoff earlier, but he was not so dense that he did not understand why—he was scared.

They _all_ were.

At the same time, the prospect of _home_ filled Harry with a warm longing. With the pack's morale so badly shattered, Harry had a feeling that Ulrich needed the comfort of his mate nearby much more than Harry did at the moment.

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said at last, and Ulrich broke into a small smile as he shifted back into his wolf form, and trotted along at Harry's side as they exited the House and wove through the cabins to Ulrich's cabin— _their_ cabin.

The moment Harry and the bear-sized wolf got inside, Ulrich shifted back to his human form and threw on a pair of jeans, but as usual, he didn't bother with a shirt.

Ulrich drew Harry close, and as Harry scented his mate, he could feel Ulrich doing the same, both of them taking comfort in the closeness of the other.

“Harry...” Ulrich whispered his name, it escaping him as a small sigh. And Harry shivered a little when he felt Ulrich's prickly stubble tickle his throat as the dominant moved in to kiss it. Harry smiled a little at the light contact, which shifted to a yelp as Ulrich scooped him up bridal style. In an instant, Harry's mind was overwhelmed with memory, and the real world seemed to dissolve around him.

 

_With strength that did not befit his stature, Remus lifted Harry easily, and Harry yelped in surprise as he clung more tightly to his partner. His legs instinctively locking around Remus's waist, his eyes wide with surprise and fright._

“ _Remus, put me down!” Harry's hold tightened, but Remus acted as though Harry weighed no more than a sack of flour._

“ _Relax, Harry, I promise I won't drop you,” he grinned mischievously and began to move, which resulted in Harry clinging even more tightly to him._

“ _Seriously, Remus, this isn't funny, I'm_ heavy _. Put me—” his protests were cut off by a rather passionate kiss, which Remus maintained down the hall, up the stairs, and all the way to their bedroom, where he finally let Harry down. Harry immediately sat on the end of the bed, a hand clutched over his heart while he glared at the older man._

“ _Never ever do that again,” Harry said while he took several breaths to steady himself, and Remus laughed softly._

 

“Harry,” a voice said, though to Harry's ears it sounded very far away, as though it was coming from someone who was standing at the opposite end of a very long tunnel.

“Harry,” the voice said again, “Harry, please, can you hear me?” it sounded closer this time, and deeply familiar, though Harry still could not place it.

Rough, work-worn fingers brushed Harry's cheeks, and with a shuddering gasp, the world came rushing back.

Harry blinked several times as he tried to work through his confusion. His eyelashes and cheeks felt damp, and he was lying on Ulrich's bed, though he could not recall how he had gotten there. Ulrich was hovering over him, his eyes wide with worry.

“Ulrich?” Harry asked weakly, and he saw the dominant immediately relax, “what—what happened?”

“Harry, thank the Gods,” he whispered, and bowed forward to kiss him lightly, a gesture which Harry immediately returned. “I don't know. I picked you up to carry you to bed, and you just...you went limp. At first I thought you had fainted, but your eyes were wide open, and you were staring at nothing, and you were crying. Hell, had it not been for the fact that your heart was beating, I would have thought you were dead.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled as he sat up, “I don't like being picked up, and it—it brought back memories.” Harry shivered, and his sight warped as his eyes flooded with tears again. Hissing a soft curse, he rubbed roughly at them, and prayed that Ulrich hadn't noticed.

“Bad memories?” Ulrich asked, and Harry shook his head a little.

“Not exactly, it was a good memory at one time, but now...I don't know.” Harry heaved a sigh, and raked a hand roughly through his hair. “I'm sorry, I know you were just probably trying to be suave or something, and my utterly-fucked up brain ruined it—”

Harry's apology was cut off rather suddenly when a pair of warm hands cupped his cheeks, and Ulrich pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Harry arched up and threw his arms over Ulrich's shoulders to immediately kiss him back.

“It's not your fault,” Ulrich whispered against Harry's mouth, “I'm sorry that I sparked a memory for you, but I'll know for the future to not...do that.” Ulrich pulled back a little and stroked Harry's hair, and with a gentle sigh, Harry leant into the contact.

“Come on,” Harry said softly, “let's just sleep...it's been a stressful day.”

Ulrich lay down with Harry and drew him close. He felt the soft tingle of a healing charm spiderweb over his cheek, healing the scratches that Tavish had left. Ulrich's lips replaced the tip of his wand as he kissed Harry's cheek, and Harry shifted closer into the dominant's warmth as he relaxed, and slowly fell asleep.

 


	19. Devastation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Early update because I have good news: First Draft of NMR is COMPLETE. That's right, all 42 chapters are DONE! I'm so excited I can't even. Just you guys wait, I am so, so, so, sooooooo happy with how this came out, and I really hope you guys like it as much as I do. What does this little tidbit of information mean, other than your fair author is a little bit loopy with exhaustion(I wrote 50 pages in like 2 days. My brain is SO fried.)? We are moving up to twice-weekly updates, Tuesday and Thursday. So, that means that the next update will be up August 29th! 
> 
> I'd love to update more often than that, but in between my other fic responsibilities in the Yuri!!! On Ice fandom, school, and my work, twice a week is pretty much the max I can do to give me time to properly edit the chapters before they go up. Thank you guys again for your continued support, and I'll see you on Tuesday!

Chapter Nineteen – Devastation

 

The following four weeks were nothing short of hell for Harry and the rest of the pack.

Without Greyback around to keep the other dominants in line, Ulrich was doing the work of at least five people as he tried to maintain some semblance of order, while also in correspondence with Ron and the Ministry. They were all trying to at least secure some sort of fair trial for Greyback, to which the people in the Office of Magical Law Enforcement refused to budge on—as far as they were concerned, Greyback was a rabid animal that did not deserve such things as Basic Civil Rights.

Intermingled with the bureaucratic headaches had been another moon, and Hermione came to the territory dangerously close to sunset with a wad of parchment under her arm.

“I need to show this to Ulrich,” Hermione said quickly after she offered Harry a quick smile in greeting, “I'll be back in a bit, yeah?”

She hurried off before Harry could respond, and he watched her retreating back with a deep frown upon his face.

Despite his insistence that he could help, much to Harry's chagrin, he was still being treated like he had been in fifth year— _be a good boy, stay in the territory, there's nothing you can do._

Except he wasn't a child anymore, there _were_ things he could do to help, except everyone seemed to have forgotten that.

Harry had been careful to keep his complaining to a minimum around Adina and Tavish, both of whom were libel to bite anyone's head off in relation to their mate's imprisonment, but it did not stop Harry's feelings of inadequacy from manifesting themselves, usually in the form of glowering at the dominants, and arguing with Ulrich. Despite how good he had been to Harry, there was no denying that the side of werewolf culture that dictated that subs were not fighters was a deeply ingrained belief in him, and he seemed to consistently struggle with Harry's adamant arguments that he could _actually_ help.

 

“This isn't up for discussion,” Ulrich would snap every time he lost patience with his mate, “you need to stay here. Let me deal with this. I'm the leader of this pack in Alpha's stead, and I will not have you risk it all just to satisfy your ego.”

“That's not what this is about,” Harry protested, “Ulrich, I was with the Aurors for a long time. I know how the system works, I can—”

“ _No,_ Harry,” Ulrich growled, and Harry's eyes narrowed into a glare.

“ _Fine._ ”

 

Every other day they would bicker over it, in particular every time an owl came for Ulrich, and he would casually brush Harry aside in an effort to deal with whatever the letter detailed. His bitter feelings towards Ulrich began to grow, and as a result Harry spent more and more evenings in his old bed in the Sub House, instead of with Ulrich. The only downside to this was some other dominants had begun to believe that he was an unmated sub again, and immediately took the opportunity to make advances on him— _especially_ Bryce.

 

“Come on, sweet thing,” he purred, a thick arm around Harry's waist, crushing them chest-to-chest as he gave Harry's bum a sharp squeeze, “I'll make it _so_ good for you, you won't even remember that you and the beta were ever together.”

“Get it through your thick skull, Bryce,” Harry growled as he struggled against the dominant, “I'm _not_ interested.”

Usually Hermione or Ulrich would have to come to Harry's rescue when Bryce got too handsy, and Harry hated how weak it made him feel. He was still too angry with Ulrich and his cold brushoffs to offer his mate anything more than a brief, “thank you,” before he hurried off to rejoin the other submissives, his skin still twitching from Bryce's unwanted advances.

It was a warm day in early July when a visitor came to the pack. It was a visitor that Harry did not particularly _want_ to see, but most surprisingly, it was not Harry this visitor had come for, but someone else entirely.

“Harry,” Remus said politely as he approached the main area of the territory from the Apparition Point, and nodded his head in greeting. “I need to speak with your mate about Alpha, where might he be?”

Wordlessly, Harry lifted his hand and pointed across the clearing, where Ulrich was arguing with Bryce—again.

“Thank you,” Remus said in the same bland, polite tone, and offered Harry a small smile before he turned his back on him and strode over to Ulrich while extracting a thick wad of parchment from the inside pocket of his blazer.

“Well, that was weird,” Harry remarked as he watched Remus go, and rubbed at his arms a little in an effort to rid himself of the goosepimple sensation that had spread across his skin at the older man's sudden appearance.

“How what that weird?” Tavish asked as he looked up from the thick tome on Wizarding Law he had been poring over, and regarded Harry oddly.

“It's weird that he was so...polite. Normal. Like nothing ever happened.”

“I say again: how is that weird?”

“The last couple of times I've been around him usually involved him trying desperately to get me to forgive him,” Harry explained, “or cop a feel...or both. I just—it's weird, it was like he looked right through me.”

“Hmm,” Tavish intoned as his gaze dropped back down to the book, but did not offer up any sort of proper response.

Harry turned his gaze back to his mate and Remus, a small frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched them. They seemed to be debating heatedly about something, and Harry had the strangest feeling that they were talking about _him_ , though he could not clearly hear them to determine whether he was right, or if his ego really _had_ gotten out of control. He watched Remus throw his arms out at Ulrich in some sort of desperate plea, while the beta crossed his arms and glared at Remus.

Harry watched the pair for a few more minutes, but they did nothing more exciting than argue and debate until Remus seemed to hit his boiling point and stormed off. Harry turned back to Tavish, and they resumed idle conversation while trying to pretend like everything was fine, both of them pointedly avoiding the elephant in the room. It had been a long few weeks of dead ends and red herrings, and they had taken their toll on the mates of Greyback—Tavish, in particular.

His hair had grown a little longer, but it was frizzy and unkempt. There were dark circles under his eyes at all times, and his emotional state was extremely delicate, and he had a tendency to bite the heads off anyone for no particular reason whatsoever. Harry was quite certain that he was very near his breaking point, and Harry refused to be the one to cause him to fall apart completely.

Adina seemed to be faring a little better—she was still tired and stressed, but less likely to jump down someone's throat for no reason. Harry attributed that to the fact that she was a little older, and thus had more experience with the world at large. Either way, Harry felt awful for both of them, but it wasn't enough to make him completely push back his bitterness towards Ulrich for not letting him help out.

At the full moon itself, Harry's feelings of inadequacy had bled through into his werewolf mind, and he snapped at Ulrich more than once, and refused to let his mate come anywhere near him. He spent most of the night with the unmated subs, while Ulrich looked on miserably—Harry would not even join him for the first meal on their kills for the night—as mate to the stand-in alpha, Harry had every right to do so, but his anger at Ulrich was so heightened by the influence of the moon that instead, he close to not eat at all, and stayed away from his mate.

 

It was another fortnight of this behaviour before Ulrich had had enough.

“All right, Harry,” he growled, his arms crossed as he glared down at him, where he was sitting with a handful of the other unmated subs, with little Sheng in his lap. Apparently sensing danger, Jade snatched her child from Harry's arms, and not a moment too soon as Ulrich grabbed him by the back of his throat and dragged him to his feet, while he ignored Harry's strangled yelp of surprise. “I've had enough of your shitty attitude. We're talking about this— _now_.”

He ignored Harry's garbled, stammering protests as he dragged him away from the main area of the territory and to their cabin. Without saying a word, Ulrich marched him over to the fire pit, forced him down onto one of the benches, and ignited the fire with a quick, angry jab of his wand. He dropped down onto the bench next to Harry, and both men crossed their arms as they glared at each other.

“Harry, we need to talk.”

“Why do we need to talk?” Harry sniped back at him, “ _I_ think we're in perfect agreement—I think you're being a git, and you think the same about me. What's there to discuss?”

“Would you stop being a fucking princess for _five_ minutes and listen to what I have to say?” Ulrich demanded, his tone of voice less angry, and more frustrated and pleading. “I've got enough on my plate between running this pack, keeping Bryce from trying to usurp me, and trying to get Alpha out of jail. I don't need your stupid, selfish attitude lumped on top of it all.”

“I'm not being a princess!” Harry snapped, “I'm being _practical_. You have this stupid mindset about subs. We aren't supposed to do _anything_ important or strenuous—just be a good boy and stay in the territory. I worked with the Aurors for _years,_ Ulrich. I know how the system works, and yet you're refusing my help because, as you say, it's not my _place_ as a sub to do something like that. At least with Remus he never tried to stop me from doing my job—”

“—that is _such_ bullshit, Harry,” Ulrich cut in with an angry growl, “I'm not trying to stop you from doing anything, but I won't have you go blundering in and risking Alpha's freedom for your bleeding ego. I won't have it—”

“—need I remind you that it was _me_ who got Alpha released in the first place? You were _there,_ Ulrich, the day Alpha was freed it was _me_ who escorted him back here. Why the hell would you want to deny my help now? You're not being fair.”

“ _Fair_? Harry, this isn't a game of Gobstones—this is Alpha's freedom we're talking about, you can't—”

“You are sitting across from someone who, along with the Minister, worked tirelessly for years to help the werewolf community _ages_ before I was bound to Remus _or_ turned. I worked in the Auror Office and closely with Magical Law Enforcement. I was good, if not better, than Ron. If you're so desperate to get Alpha out of Azkaban, _why_ would you refuse my help? Is it because I'm a delicate little sub, and can't lift a finger on my own?”

“That's not—”

“—I'm not finished,” Harry interrupted with a growl, and Ulrich's mouth snapped shut. “We've been through shit like this before, you want to let me have my space and my life, you're open and honest, but you get stupidly possessive, and you seem to have it in your head that subs are totally incapable of doing anything of importance in the pack. I don't understand it, since you clearly do not share the same views as Bryce that subs are a convenient lay or sentient baby factories and nothing more, so I don't get where this refusal to let me help is coming from. I remember some of the last moon—you _know_ how pissed I am by your attitude, yet you refuse to budge. I'm not trying to make this _about me_ or whatever Tavish claims—I'm _really_ not. I'm just really angry over the fact that you seem to think that I can't lift a finger to help, when I have the tools needed to, y'know, _actually_ help.”

Ulrich seemed to have been stunned into silence by Harry's rant, and he stared at his mate with wide eyes, as though someone had just flicked on the lights, and his eyes were still adjusting to it.

It was several long moments of silence before he finally spoke.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Ulrich said at last, his gaze dropping to his lap, “it's not that I don't want your help, or think you can't help, it's just...you attract trouble like Thestrals to rotting meat. I just don't want to tempt fate by putting you in danger, and making things more complicated.”

“This is not danger,” Harry insisted, his tone softening as he reached for one of Ulrich's hands, and he wrapped both of his smaller ones around it as he offered it a small squeeze, which the dominant returned at once. “I've been in danger, I can handle myself just fine. _Trust_ me, and let me help.”

Ulrich eyed Harry critically, one eyebrow arched as though he seriously doubted Harry's promises, but something in his pleading expression seemed to make him cave, and with a heavy sigh, he nodded. Harry's face split into a smile, and quickly he closed the space between them, and climbed into his dominant's lap as he kissed him hard.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered against his mouth, and Ulrich smiled softly, though there was a sadness in his eyes too, as though he was already regretting his assent. Harry tried to ignore it as he kissed Ulrich again, while the beta's arms locked around his waist, holding him in place while their kisses intensified.

Ulrich carried Harry to bed, but this time, no flashbacks hindered the short journey. Clothing was shed slowly, and Ulrich did something that Harry had not experienced in a long time—he _worshipped_ his body.

He tasted every part of him, kissing and licking at his lips, his jaw, his throat, his collarbone, and every part in between. He was a shuddering, trembling mess by the time he rolled onto his stomach and pulled one leg against his chest, exposing himself for his mate. Ulrich took him slowly, and the sweet lovemaking was almost enough to make Harry weep. He buried his face in the pillows and shuddered as he moved with Ulrich, and when they each in turn found their release, to Harry it felt more like they had washed away the argument completely in a running river.

Harry buried himself in Ulrich's welcoming embrace, and he pressed his cheek against his chest. He inhaled deeply, determined to commit his scent to memory, while Ulrich stroked his damp hair and pressed gentle kisses to his forehead.

“Well...that has to be the best make-up sex I've had in a really long time,” Ulrich remarked, and Harry laughed softly.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, and shuffled up to kiss Ulrich lightly, before he settled back into the welcoming embrace. “I'm...I'm sorry things have been so strained between us lately.”

“It's all right, Harry,” Ulrich replied as he returned to stroking his hair, “it's a tough situation.”

Harry relaxed and closed his eyes, one of his hands moving to curl against Ulrich's hard chest as he began to nod off, only to be roused again by Ulrich's lips on his.

“I love you, Harry,” Ulrich whispered against his mouth, and Harry swallowed thickly.

“I love you too,” Harry replied, and Ulrich beamed at him.

Harry closed his eyes again, but this time, it was to hide his surging guilt over the fact that the words had jumped from his mouth reflexively, and he could not say that he felt it as strongly as the dominant did.

_I want to love you,_ Harry thought sadly, _I just wish I knew why I can't._

 

~*~

 

The following day, at long last, Harry was _finally_ allowed to join in on the discussions of how to get Greyback out of Azkaban.

He and Ulrich were joined by Hermione and Ron, who Ulrich had let into the territory, despite Bryce's loud protests, and the fifth person added to their group was one Harry both did not expect, and did _not_ want to see, especially when things between him and Ulrich had been so strained and confusing lately.

Remus.

And to say that sitting with his current significant other as well as his ex was awkward would be putting it _very_ lightly.

“This is going well,” Ron remarked sarcastically when after a full five minutes, no one had said a word. The comment seemed to break some of the tension, and with a few strained laughs, the meeting began.

“So what's going on with the trial?” Harry asked quickly, “I mean, I can see a strong defence for the murders, but the Portkey Cuff...” he trailed off and glanced to Ulrich, “did Alpha actually remove it, or was it an accident?”

“Accidental damage to Ministry equipment—provided it wasn't tampered with—he might get a fine of some kind, but he won't be penalized for it,” Ron added, “but if you or he took it off, then that would be seen as a defying his release conditions, and at that point it would probably be next to impossible to secure a release.”

“I've been in touch with Magical Law Enforcement as well,” Remus added, while he kept his eyes fixed on Ulrich, though Harry did not miss the brief flick of that amber gaze from Ulrich to Harry and back again. “I'm trying to file a formal complaint that his arrest was a prejudicial attack, and was enacted when they knew that the pack's defences would not be as strong.”

“ _Is_ that the case, though?” Harry asked uncertainly, “I mean, that would imply that someone _knew_ that Ulrich was leaving the territory briefly, and the only ones who knew were Hermione, the pack, and the Weasleys.”

“We better not jump to conclusions just yet,” Hermione said quickly, “it also could be a fluke, like they were waiting for the rogue pack to no longer be a threat before they moved in. Ulrich—what happened with Alpha's Cuff? Let's start there.”

“Alpha hated that damn thing,” Ulrich began, bowing his head forward a little as he spoke, “but he didn't want to be put back in Azkaban, so he left it alone.

“On our first moon with him back, I suppose whoever constructed the thing didn't take our physical size into account—it just broke apart when Alpha turned. The next morning, Alpha and I talked about it—we knew that even though it wasn't his fault, the wizard Ministry would not see it that way, and find some excuse to blame him. Alpha never uses wizard magic if he can help it, so I took the thing and tried to work out if the wizard Ministry would be alerted to it's damage, and I found that there was an alert worked into the charms on the Cuff, but the way it broke—it didn't set off the alarm. I have no idea how. So I mended it and made sure all the charms were still in place, and put it away.”

“So Alpha really didn't try to get it off?” Harry asked, “I mean...when I saw that it was missing, I figured he'd found a way to get it off without alerting the Aurors.”

“Alpha hated having it on, but he also didn't want to be taken from the pack or his mates again,” Ulrich replied, repeating his words from earlier, “the benefits of leaving well enough alone sort of outweighed the risks in this case.”

“Ron, since it was the Ministry's fault and not Alpha's, d'you think we can get him out of it?” Hermione asked, and Ron grimaced a little.

“I'm only an Auror, that'd be a question for the solicitors in Magical Law Enforcement more than me,” he explained, “usually there'd be some kind of compensation for such a massive mistake—the false imprisonment and everything, since it wasn't Greyback's fault that it broke, but because of who he is, there's a big chance that they'll ignore that and look for some sort of loophole or technicality to keep him behind bars.”

“I believe that is where I come in,” Remus interjected, and Harry found himself mildly surprised by the smooth, confident tone with which Remus spoke. As covertly as he could, Harry rubbed his arms in an effort to hide the spread of the gooseflesh that had run up his forearms at the sound of it, and tried to look at Remus as though he was a stranger, and not his ex. “Despite the fact that Alpha is infamous, he's still a werewolf, and being part of the Werewolf Liaisons Department, I can contest that he was arrested based on prejudicial accusations, and without legitimate evidence that he was actually guilty.”

“But how likely are they to listen to that, given that he's Fenrir Greyback?” Harry asked dubiously, and Remus offered him a small smile.

“The Wizengamot at large may be still somewhat prejudiced, but Kingsley approved of his release once before, and he's a fair man. He'll listen to our appeals, even if no one else will.”

They debated and discussed for another hour before the meeting broke up, and Harry found himself feeling confident that they'd be able to at least secure a trial for Greyback, which, while not a release, was at least a step in the right direction.

 

Harry's positive attitude died when the pack received the date of Greyback's trial date a few weeks later, and saw that it was set for the sixteenth of July. Included with the date was a long note from Ron, scribbled out hastily.

 

_I know it's the day after the full moon, and I swear I tried to get an extension, but the Wizengamot spouted out some bollocks about how they're booked with other things besides just trials, and they wanted this over quickly. I don't think it'd be much of a stretch to suspect that they planned it this way, like they think you lot will be more weakened and less on top of things the day after. If there is anything you will need to stay clearheaded that day—potion, charm, whatever—send it back with Pig and I'll make sure you guys have it. This isn't fair, and even Remus's complaints on the timing were ignored._

 

“Fuck,” said Harry, as he handed the note back to Ulrich, and he raked a hand through his hair as he stared down at the letter, while Pig twittered excitedly and zoomed around his head.

 


	20. The Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Tuesday everyone! Next update will be this Thursday, August 31st.

Chapter Twenty – The Trial

 

The full moon hung low in the sky, and its appearance was met with a mournful howling.

Harry whined as he looked on to Tavish and Adina, both of whom had once more refused to eat without their mate present. He took an uncertain step back from the meal before him and moved as though to join the two submissives, but his path was cut off by a Hermione. She huffed, and gently nudged him back towards the carcass and his mate, who was waiting patiently for him. Reluctantly, he turned back to the meal and his mate

Ulrich licked affectionately at Harry's ears when he stopped at his side, and nudged him encouragingly.

Harry didn't feel very hungry, and picked at the offal while next to him Ulrich tore into the felled doe with renewed verve, apparently encouraged by his sub at his side.

Harry continued to graze over meal, and only stepped back, licking the blood from his muzzle when he noticed that Ulrich seemed to have had his fill.

As the rest of the pack surged towards the meal, Harry turned and tried to make his way over to the pair of subs again. This time, it was Ulrich who cut him off.

Harry's gaze shot up, but where he had expected to see Ulrich's lip curled back in a snarl, he saw a remorseful look in his eyes. The beta's ears were flat against his head, and he let out a soft, almost pleading whine, and the entirety of his body language and vocalization spelled out a clear message to Harry—

 

_Leave them be._

 

Harry didn't want to; he wanted to console his friends in this difficult time, but it seemed as though the rest of the pack did not want him to do so. Around him, he could see a few of the wolves who had finished eating were beginning to circle the beta and his sub, as though intent to intervene if needed. Past Ulrich's bulk, Harry could see Adina and Tavish curled up together, so intertwined in fact that it was difficult to tell where one sub ended and the other began.

Harry whined as he stepped from foot to foot in his agitation, while the much larger form of his mate leant forward to nudge his cheek affectionately. Harry leant into the contact, and with a little more gentle encouragement, Harry reluctantly allowed Ulrich to lead him away.

They lay down away from the rest of the pack, but in a position where Ulrich could keep an eye on things at the same time. Harry stretched out on his side with a soft huff, and Ulrich settled down next to him, leaning forward to lick at Harry's ears again. As Ulrich did so, Harry lazily gazed at the rest of the pack milling about.

The morale of the pack was far from back to normal, but it was certainly better than it had been at the last moon, when things had been so tense and uncertain. Everyone was cautiously optimistic about the impending trial, and this attitude had bled into their wolf forms. The pups were all running and playing, the subs where keeping them in check, while the dominants either spent time with their respective mates, or sought to try and claim an unmated sub.

Harry watched the scene through half-lidded eyes, and snuggled more securely into his mate's side as he slowly fell asleep.

 

~*~

 

The following morning, things were far from peaceful.

Harry and Ulrich were woken at the crack of dawn by Tavish, who was already dressed in the set of robes that he had intended to wear to the trial. It was incredibly strange to see Tavish in traditional wizarding garb, but Harry could feel the stress radiating off the sub in waves, and did not dare comment on it.

Ulrich, as predicted, was slow and sluggish following the moon, as was Hermione. As a result, Harry, Adina, and Tavish were doing most of the last-minute preparations of getting everything in order, while Ulrich and Hermione were offered huge plates of food and an endless supply of coffee—a rare treat in the pack territory, as it wasn't something they were able to grow themselves.

By eight o'clock, everyone was dressed and ready to go, but Hermione, ever the over-prepared person that she was, went over their Itinerary one last time.

“Okay,” she said, her chin resting between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand while she paced in front of the group. “Alpha's being tried before a full court, in Courtroom Five on Level One, in the Department of Mysteries.” Hermione paused, and exchanged a look with Harry. Memories of the summer of his fifth year came rushing back to him in that moment, and he nodded in understanding as she pressed on.

“We're meeting with Ron and Remus in the Atrium, and we'll go down to the courtroom together. They won't have us all in the courtroom at once, chances are they'll interview us one by one, and review our memory evidence individually. If all goes well, we should have Alpha out and back here before noon.” Hermione paused, and glanced over to Ulrich. “Who's watching the pack while you're away? Not Bryce?”

“Hell no,” Ulrich replied with a short shake of his head, “the last thing we need is to leave a power-hungry madman in charge of things—especially if that includes a group of unmated subs. No, I'm leaving Wu Fei in charge, he's one of the usual sentries, and he's pretty impartial. He won't take advantage of his temporary position, and if things get out of hand, he won't hesitate to contact me.”

“Good,” Hermione replied with a small nod, “I think that's everything...unless there's something you want to add, Ulrich?”

“No,” Ulrich replied, “we better get going anyway, I'd rather be early to this thing than late.”

“All right then,” Hermione said with a short nod, “let's go.”

Both Hermione and Ulrich were still too weakened by the moon to Apparate, and so they, along with Tavish—who had never gotten his license—were taken by Side-Along Apparition with Harry and Adina.

Privately, Harry was rather pleased about the idea of being able to do something that Ulrich momentarily could not, but he was careful to hide this feeling from the others. Now was hardly the time to gloat, and everyone was so tense that Harry was certain that if he were to attempt to joke about anything at the moment, they would not find it in any way amusing.

When they reappeared outside the visitors' entrance, Harry realized that it would be a bit of a challenge squeezing all of them inside the little phone box—especially with Ulrich being built like a brick shed.

“Why isn't this thing bigger on the inside...” Harry grunted as the five of them wormed their way in, while Hermione raised an arm to awkwardly lift the receiver. Harry punched in the code.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic,” the familiar, cool female voice said, “please state your name and business.”

“Er...” Hermione began, “Hermione Granger, Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, escorting Harry Potter, Adina...Greyback?” She nodded, and Hermione continued, “Tavish Greyback and Ulrich...”

“...Rahn,” he filled in for her, and she nodded her thanks.

“...and Ulrich Rahn, witnesses to the trial of Fenrir Greyback.”

“Thank you,” replied the cool female voice, “Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.” Harry heard the familiar rattle in the coin-return chute, and it spat out four badges bearing their names, along with the phrase, _Trial Witness._

“Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium,” the woman's voice continued as the phone box door slid shut behind them with some difficulty, and elevator-like, they slid down and into the Ministry.

It was a tight squeeze, and Harry could feel Tavish, Adina, and Ulrich all fidgeting around him, and he assumed that they were unused to being in such a tight space. When the five of them spilled out of the phone box and into the Atrium in a tangled heap. Harry was barely conscious of the woman's final words of, “the Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,” as they righted themselves, and Hermione passed out the badges.

“Come on,” Hermione said in a shaky tone of voice, while her eyes darted around the busy Atrium, but not for nothing—Harry, too, caught a number of people staring at them as they passed by. He couldn't work out if the looks were judgmental or merely curious, but nevertheless they made him distinctly uncomfortable. “We'll get you registered, then we can find the others.”

Harry immediately moved over to Ulrich and took his hand, and he seemed to be reassured by Harry's presence, and the dominant offered his hand a small squeeze. Harry returned it, and they moved towards with a renewed confidence towards the registration desk.

It did not take very long, given that aside from Hermione, only Harry and Ulrich were carrying wands, Adina having abandoned wizard magic when she was turned (a quirk, Harry assumed, that they had adopted from their mate), and Tavish mumbled something about never using a wand, which struck Harry as odd, but he didn't press it. They all had to submit to a search, and Ulrich, Adina, and Tavish all looked deeply unsettled at the prospect, but with Harry and Hermione's gentle reassurances, they managed to get through it without complaint.

“How are you two holding up?” Harry asked softly to his two fellow subs as they stepped back from the security desk, and they both offered him a weak smile.

“I'll feel better when we get to see Fenrir,” Adina replied in a similar tone of voice, “I'm very afraid that this will all be for nothing.”

Harry reached for her free hand, her opposite one being held tightly by Tavish, and he offered it a small squeeze.

“Everything will be fine, just you wait and see,” Harry said with an air of confidence that he did not feel. “We have a strong case, we'll get him out, I promise.”

Adina nodded her head, and despite how calm she looked, Harry could feel the tension coming off her in waves. Tavish looked more visibly nervous, and with Harry trying to keep the other subs calm, Hermione and Ulrich took the lead over where they were due to meet up with Ron and Remus.

“Hey, over here!” a voice called, and Harry glanced up to see Ron and Remus standing by the fountain, and Harry swallowed a wave of memory as he gazed at it. He kept his focus solely on Ron as they made their way over to him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus smiling in his familiar placid manner, once more as though the last two years had never happened.

Harry wasn't entirely certain how he felt about that.

“Hey, Ron,” Hermione said as they made it over to them, and she hurried to his side to take his hand. Harry moved up to Ulrich's side, and strove to keep his expression neutral as he stood there, despite the raging, conflicting emotions in his heart that always came with seeing Remus. He bit the inside of his cheek and clutched tightly to Ulrich's hand.

“You guys ready to face the beast?” Ron teased, “and by beast I mean the effing _Wizengamot_...” he grimaced and shook his head.

“How likely are we to actually win this, Ron?” Harry asked uncertainly while he ignored the bad joke, and he grimaced.

“Kingsley has been at least receptive to our arguments, so chances are when all this is over we'll have his vote, he's always been fair, even with...erm, criminals.” He paused and offered the group of werewolves an apologetic look for his word choice before he continued, “but the rest of them are a bunch of stubborn old farts, so they'll be harder to convince.”

“Our defence is strong,” Remus added, “if it gets out that the Wizengamot was keeping Alpha behind bars for discriminatory reasons, rather than actual charges, there would be hell to pay. I have every confidence that we'll be able to get him out.”

Remus directed the latter part of his explanation towards Tavish and Adina specifically, and it sounded reassuring. Harry watched in quiet amazement as both Tavish and Adina smiled for the first time in days.

“We better get going,” Hermione said as she checked her watch, “it's almost quarter to nine.”

In tense, awkward silence, the group headed for the lift. Harry did not miss the wide berth the Ministry employees seemed to be giving them, and his stomach knotted uncomfortably as they went. Even with all the positive werewolf legislation over the last few years, it was still quite clear that he was no longer _The Boy Who Lived—_ he was a creature now, and not to be trusted.

Harry swallowed his misery at this realization as best he could—he did not want to think about himself when Greyback's freedom hung in the balance.

A sudden hand wrapping around his waist startled Harry from his musings, and he looked up to Ulrich, who was smiling down at him warmly. Harry returned the gesture and looped one arm around the dominant's waist, while he pressed himself against his mate's side. Harry felt his face burn a little when Remus's eyes flitted in their direction, but he offered up no comment as Hermione jammed her thumb against the button for the level they wanted, and in dead, tense silence, they headed down to the courtroom.

 

Kingsley was waiting for them outside of Courtroom Five, wearing his Wizengamot robes and a smile.

“Harry,” he said in his smooth, familiar tone of voice, and Harry broke away from Ulrich to shake Kingsley's hand. “I wish it I could say it's good to see you, but under the circumstances...”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry replied with a weak smile of his own, “thanks for...well, allowing this trial.”

“At risk of being pelted to death with owls by you lot, it's the least I could do to save myself the headache,” he teased, and Harry grinned at him.

“So, what's the plan?” Harry asked as he retracted his hand at last and moved back to stand next to Ulrich once more.

“All of you will take a seat over there,” Kingsley said as he motioned to a long wooden bench that faced the courtroom's doors. “You'll be called in one by one to be questioned, and then once we have received all the testimonies, we'll come to a decision.” He paused, and regarded the group with a small frown. “I believe that this time he was falsely imprisoned, I am on your side in this, but my power only extends so far. Be prepared for the worst outcome, but hope for the best.”

“That's been the general consensus,” Hermione agreed with a weak smile of her own. Kingsley nodded at her, and cast a sweeping glance over everyone.

“I need to get inside,” he said, “have a seat, and try to stay calm when you're being questioned. Losing your temper won't help, all right?”

They all offered their understanding in the form of mumbled yeses or nods, and in a cluster they all shuffled towards the bench. Harry sat at the end of the row in between Ulrich and Tavish, with Adina on Tavish's other side, followed by Remus, Hermione, and Ron.

They sat in silence for several long minutes, when a sudden shuffling sound at the end of the passageway drew their attention. Even before they saw him, Harry could smell his alpha, and Tavish lurched forward in his seat as Greyback approached, bracketed on either side by a pair of Aurors. Sensing what was likely to happen next, Harry quickly reached out and gripped Tavish's forearm to stop him running at his mate.

“Don't,” Harry hissed softly, “don't do anything. Just sit. You'll get to see him properly soon, I promise.”

Tavish looked as though Harry had asked him to saw off his own arm with a butter knife, but nodded weakly and relaxed in his seat, his eyes downcast as Greyback approached.

He looked similar to how Harry remembered him from when he had first sought him out for information. He was in a set of grey Azkaban robes, his hair was unkempt, his skin was waxy, and his wrists and ankles were bound in thick iron manacles inset with silver runes.

The sole difference was the look of absolute shock on his face at the long line of witnesses that had shown up in his defence. His gaze flitted from one face to the next, and he did not even bother to try and mask his wide-eyed surprise as he looked at them. Tavish was squirming in his seat, eyeing Greyback longingly, but to Harry's suggestion he did not move, but appeared as though he was fighting a deep urge to go running at his mate.

Adina was faring a little better, and was smiling sadly up at Greyback while she held tightly to Tavish's hand. Harry caught the very brief softening in the alpha's gaze as he regarded his two mates before he was ushered into the courtroom, and the door slammed shut behind him.

Tavish let out a slow breath, and made a show of itching at his eyes, though Harry did not miss the covert way he wiped away his tears.

“Fuck, this is hard,” he whispered, and Harry offered his wrist a reassuring squeeze.

“You can do this,” Harry said encouragingly, “we'll get him out—I know we will.”

“You don't know that for sure,” Tavish replied, his voice still soft and anguished, “even your Minister is uncertain if we can actually offer up enough evidence for that.”

“Call me an optimist,” Harry replied, with a small grin as he elbowed Tavish in the side, and he smiled weakly, just as the courtroom door opened again, and one of the Aurors who had escorted Greyback in stood there with a small scroll of parchment in his hand.

“Adina...Greyback?” he called, and Adina started a little at her name, pausing long enough to pull Tavish into a tight hug before she got up, headed for the Auror, and she was led into the courtroom.

Harry immediately took Tavish's hand while the others closed the gap that Adina had left. Tavish rested his head on Harry's shoulder, but did not speak as they all stared at the courtroom door. They could hear the low thrum of voices coming from the other side, but it wasn't clear enough to tell them how the proceedings were going. Harry chewed his bottom lip nervously, but did not dare break the silence as they sat and waited.

After about fifteen minutes Tavish was called, and he stood up shakily to follow the Auror inside.

Remus looked up from the small stack of parchment in his hands to close the space, but saw Harry and froze. He looked back to his notes and did not move, while Ulrich none-too-subtly wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and tugged him a little closer. Harry didn't protest it, and moved a hand to cover Ulrich's in a move of reassurance.

The court proceedings continued, and Ron was called in next, followed by Hermione, and then Ulrich, leaving Harry alone with Remus.

Ulrich was more than a little reluctant to leave, but Harry merely offered his hand a firm squeeze, followed by a drawn-out kiss, which seemed to calm the dominant enough for them to part, and Harry sat back down on the bench, with nearly two feet of space between the pair of them.

Unlike earlier, the silence between the exes was less tense, and more painfully awkward. Harry wanted to say something to break it, but for a long moment, he had no idea what he _could_ say.

 

“I...er...got your letter,” Harry said at last, and Remus's gaze snapped up to him, though his expression was blank, and Harry couldn't work out what emotion he was seeing in those familiar amber eyes. “Thank you...for apologizing, I mean. It was...it was a very er, nice letter. I appreciated it.”

“I meant it,” Remus replied after a short pause, but shifted his gaze to the courtroom door as he spoke. “I was selfish and childish, and I handled your partial turning very badly, to put it mildly.” Harry smiled weakly at the sentiment, and nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he said with a soft chuckle, “that's one way of putting it...”

“I just hope you know that I _am_ sorry,” Remus said in a similar tone of voice, and but he did not look over at Harry as he spoke. “I wish I had handled it better...I wish I still had you in my life. But, as the saying goes, I made this bed, now I have to lie in it. Nothing— _nothing_ I can say or do could ever make up for what I have put you through.” Remus paused, and lifted a hand to his unshaven jaw, rubbing a hand across it in a motion of deep stress before he continued, “I treated you like a child, and not an adult. I—I hurt you, and you were the one person that I never wanted to hurt, yet I always managed it anyway. There's no excusing it—no making up for it. Too much damage has been done, I think, for me to ever even hope of redeeming myself for it, I see that now.”

Remus paused his monologue, and turned to face Harry. Harry's breath caught when he saw that the older man's eyes were gleaming with unshed tears as he regarded him with a small, sad smile.

“I wish the best for you and Ulrich, I really do,” Remus said, and it sounded as though he truly meant it, too. “Once this is all over, I will do all that I can to stay out of your way. Your life and mine are no longer intertwined, and there's no reason for me to hang around and make things more difficult for you.”

For a long moment, Harry did not say anything at all. He had no idea what he _could_ say following such a heartfelt confession, and for the first time in a long time, he believed Remus's every word. Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth as he regarded the older man, and felt his throat tighten as the words began to sink in.

 

_Once this is all over, I will do all I can to stay out of your way._

 

“I—thank you,” Harry said at last, and swallowed past the lump of emotion caught in his throat. “You...it sounds like you've done a lot of reflecting since you left...left the territory, I mean.”

“I found a Mind Healer who also happens to be a werewolf,” Remus explained in the same mild tone, “she has been helping me reflect on all the wrong I have done, and with my own feelings towards my Lycanthropy. She has helped me a lot.”

“That's good, I'm glad,” Harry replied as he shifted his gaze away from Remus and towards the opposite wall, “you always had a hard time with it, I know that.”

“Indeed.”

They lapsed into silence, and not a full minute later the door opened again, this time to admit Remus. The door shut behind him with a note of finality, and Harry could not explain—even to himself—why he felt so heartbroken in that moment.

 

Harry sat alone in the passageway, and stared at the door while his mind raged with conflicting thoughts. All Remus's sentiments—all his genuine goodbyes—for now he could see that they were _indeed_ genuine—Harry suddenly found himself anguished at the idea of never seeing him again. The thought left Harry feeling horribly guilty as his thoughts shifted to Ulrich.

 _I almost feel like I've cheated on him, even though I haven't_ done _anything..._ Harry thought miserably, and raked a hand through his hair.

Twenty minutes passed, and Harry spent most of it agonizing over his own inner turmoil. When the courtroom door opened for the last time, he remembered with a jolt why he was here to begin with, and he felt his stomach twist in shame for how he'd been so caught up in his own problems that he hadn't rehearsed his answers for the Wizengamot at all.

“Harry Potter?” the Auror said.

“Yes?” Harry asked as he stood up slowly, and the Auror nodded his head once.

“Please follow me.”

 


	21. Testimony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be Tuesday, September 5th.

Chapter Twenty-One – Testimony

 

Harry felt as though he had been thrown back in time to nearly ten years earlier.

As he followed the Auror through the doors and into the courtroom, everything was as he remembered it. Greyback sat on a dais, his wrists and ankles bound by the chains affixed to the chair, the Wizengamot sat in a semicircle on a raised platform facing them, and Harry could see Kingsley and Percy seated at the centre of it all, Kingsley watching Harry enter with a neutral expression, while Percy scribbled furiously on the parchment in front of him. His expression carried the familiar pinched, serious look it always did, and Harry couldn't help but feel a distinct sense of foreboding at the fact that Percy seemed too preoccupied to meet his eye.

A seat had been prepared for Harry, and he found the lingering scents of his friends and pack that still hung on the air around it to be comforting, and it put him a little more at ease. He nodded to Greyback, who did not respond, but the look of utter humiliation he saw briefly in the alpha's eyes told Harry that he likely felt deeply ashamed at having to be subject to judgment like this—not that Harry could blame him.

Harry swallowed his pity, certain that Greyback would not appreciate it, and sat down to face the Wizengamot.

“You are Harry Potter?” Kingsley asked as he assumed his _Minister of Magic_ role, and regarded Harry as though he were a stranger.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Former resident of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London, current residence the territory of Mr Fenrir Greyback, located in the Black Forest?”

“Yes,” Harry said again.

“And you believe Mr Greyback to be innocent of the charges put against him?”

“I do.”

“What proof do you have of that?”

The cutting voice was not Kingsley's, but belonged to a squat woman with silver hair three rows up. There was a sour look on her face as though she had sucked on a lemon, and her brow was furrowed in suspicion at him. Harry frowned, took a breath to keep himself calm, and thought of how devastated Tavish and Adina would be if he mucked this up. His hands tensed on the chair's armrests, and the thought of his fellow subs was enough to keep his voice steady as he responded to the woman.

“Fenrir Greyback is many things, miss,” Harry began, his voice shaking a little as he gazed up at her, “but he did not murder those people. As I am certain you have been told, a rogue pack of werewolves had been circling our borders for several months. They had left _tokens_ in an effort to draw Alp—er, Greyback, out, and murdered that person and that child as a result. He is _innocent_ of those charges.”

“And is he also innocent of breaking the conditions of his release?” The woman shot back, “he removed his Portkey Cuff, one of the conditions was it was to remain _on_. How do you explain that one, _Mister_ Potter?”

The sneer in her voice made Harry grind his teeth. He could see the look of disgust in her eyes, and suddenly he understood— _werewolf prejudice._

Harry felt suddenly sick, and he could not stifle a glare as he met this woman's eyes in challenge. Belatedly, he realized that he had reacted to her as a werewolf, and this response she would not understand. He cleared his throat once, and began to vocalize a response.

“As I am certain you have been informed, madam,” Harry replied as evenly as he could, though his voice continued to shake a little, “the Portkey Cuff broke apart during Greyback's first moon back with the pack. I was not informed that the Ministry now penalizes innocent people for their own mistakes—the cuff was defective; too small to accommodate the size of Greyback's wolf form. It was _not_ his fault. One could argue that those who fitted Greyback with the cuff knew this, and expected it to come apart, thus giving them an excuse to arrest him again.”

“You are suggesting that the Ministry _conspired_ to have this beast put away?” the woman snarled, and Harry lurched back in his seat a little, alarmed by her fierce tone. “What do you know of it? You're no better than him, not anymore! You're a beast, too, _of his lineage_. How _dare_ you come in here and act as though you still carry some authority—”

“—that is _enough_ , Mrs Tyrell,” Kingsley interrupted, “this is no place for prejudice of any kind. We are here to analyze the _facts_ of this case, not pass judgment based on race or species. If you cannot conduct yourself in a professional, unbiased manner, you will be removed from the courtroom. Is that clear?”

The woman, Tyrell, grumbled as she nodded her head, but did not verbally respond. Kingsley refocused his attention on Harry, his expression still blank and emotionless. Harry looked back at him, his chest heaving a little as he strove to calm down from his shock at the woman's attitude towards him.

“Please tell us in your words what occurred during the slaying of these two people, Mr Potter,” Kingsley said gently, and nodded his head encouragingly. Harry swallowed thickly, and began to speak.

“I didn't see either attack,” Harry explained as he focused his attention on Kingsley. “I knew about the rogues, they had been circling the pack's borders for months, trying to get in and take over, but our protective warding is very strong, so it's not easy to get in and out if you don't already know where the territory is.

“I'd been with the pack maybe a month, month and a half, or so, and Tavish pulled me aside because both of our mates were missing, and he told me about the human that had been killed.”

“Your mates...as in your friends? Which friends?” Kingsley asked, raising an eyebrow, and Harry stared blankly at him. “No, not friends, your... _oh_.”

“Bit more than friends, Minister,” Harry replied dryly, and the response earned him a few titters of amusement from the various Wizengamot members, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Greyback smirk approvingly.

“Understood, Mr Potter, please continue,” Kingsley said stiffly, and Harry nodded his head once.

“When Ulrich got back, he pulled me aside and told me that the carcass was pretty much shredded, and they burned the corpse to keep any scavengers from getting too close. A few weeks later, the body of the child was found...well, what was left of it.” Harry paused, and swallowed his disgust as he continued to speak. “Ulrich told me that it was mutilated.”

“And you did not see either of these crime scenes?” one of the other Wizengamot members asked, again an older person, a man who looked to be about one hundred and fifty, if the low wheezy quality of his voice was anything to go by.

“No, sir.”

“Then how do you know for certain that Greyback was uninvolved?”

“I just _know,_ ” Harry replied forcefully, and paused to take another breath before he spoke again. “Ulrich was the one who relayed this information to me, and I trust him. He's not the type to lie about such a thing, and more than that he has no reason to. It is completely clear to me that Greyback is innocent of these charges laid upon him.”

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Kingsley said, a hard edge to his voice as though determined to cut the interview short before anyone else could cut in, which seemed to be a good move, given that at the same moment, Harry saw the woman from earlier open her mouth to offer up a scathing retort. “Please provide us with your memory evidence, and we will pause for a fifteen-minute viewing.”

An Auror whom Harry did not recognize stepped down from the raised seats and handed Harry three vials. He accepted them before he rested his wand tip against his temple as he focused on the memories he needed to extract, and one by one, deposited them in the vials. He handed them back to the Auror, and was ushered out of the courtroom towards a door on the opposite side from where he'd come in, and on the other side of it he found the rest of the witnesses sitting in a circle and talking quietly.

Ulrich looked up and smiled softly when he saw Harry step inside, warm adoration in his eyes as he stood in one fluid motion and closed the distance between them. Harry shivered a little when he felt the tickling sensation of the tip of Ulrich's nose brush the hollow of his throat, scenting him in familiar greeting, and to to ensure that no dominants had been too near him when they'd been apart. Under normal circumstances, this behaviour would have annoyed Harry, but in this case, he understood that Ulrich was likely already stressed to the breaking point from being around so many wizards, and to have his mate left alone in a room with two different dominants that weren't him had to be doubly difficult. At the same time, after the third-degree he'd received from the prejudiced woman, it was deeply comforting to be held like this.

After the couple shared a quick kiss they joined the group and Harry felt the colour rise in his cheeks when Ulrich sat at Harry's back. His thighs caged in Harry's legs, and he wrapped his arms securely around Harry's waist as he continued to scent him. In front of the group, Harry felt a little embarrassed by this public display of affection, but when he opened his mouth to protest, Tavish immediately made a slicing motion at his throat, and he mouthed, _don't make a fuss._

Harry nodded minutely, and felt himself relax a little when Ulrich finally straightened up, but he still held him close. Harry's eyes met Remus's, and the guilt in his own gaze was met with a look of utter heartbreak from Remus.

They both quickly glanced away.

“So...how likely is it that this trial made any difference?” Tavish asked in a very soft, distinctly _un_ -Tavish tone of voice.

“It's hard to say,” Hermione said consolingly, while she offered him a small, sad smile. “Our defence was strong, it's out of our hands now.”

“That's not as comforting as you think it is, Hermione,” Tavish remarked with a note of sarcasm in his tone, and she smiled apologetically at him.

At that same moment, the door was pushed open, and one of the Aurors let himself in, though looked somewhat uncomfortable when he caught sight of Harry and Ulrich sitting together in a lover's embrace. Harry felt himself flush and was about to move, when Ulrich's arms at his waist tensed in a silent plea for him to stay where he was.

“Er,” the Auror paused and coughed, “the Wizengamot are about to make their final decision, and they are requesting the presence of all of you in the courtroom. Follow me, please.”

As a group they all stood and followed the Auror back out. Tavish lurched as though he wanted to go to Greyback, but Adina grabbed his arm and shook her head minutely.

Harry had taken Ulrich's hand as they headed back out, and the group lined up as their memories were returned to them. Kingsley regarded them all silently for a moment, then shifted his gaze to Greyback.

“We are about to make our decision,” he said to him, “do you have any final words to add before we do so?”

Greyback was silent for a moment, his face stony and expressionless as he regarded the Wizengamot before him. Harry's hand tensed in Ulrich's as they all waited for their alpha to speak.

“I have done many regrettable acts in my life, Minister,” Greyback replied gruffly, but more politely than Harry would have expected, “but I did not kill those people.”

Kingsley nodded his head, and turned his gaze to the others.

“And witnesses to the hearing of Fenrir Greyback...have you any closing statements?” he asked, and glanced up and down the line for a moment, then Remus took a small step forward.

“Fenrir Greyback, following his release, has done nothing that would warrant an arrest, and certainly not with such heavy charges as you have laid,” he said in that unfamiliar, confident tone of voice. “We have all provided evidence that these rogues were indeed a real threat to the pack, and despite Ministry claims at offering more protections to our kind, you did not send any such relief to us after the pack was attacked. This makes me question the motives behind this arrest; there is no just cause, and there is no reason whatsoever for our alpha to remain imprisoned.”

He took a step back, and Harry could not help but gape a little. He had never heard Remus speak like this before, and he found himself thrown—shocked both by the confidence that he now carried himself with, and the fact that he did not shy away from his Lycanthropy whatsoever. While Harry tried to shake off his surprise, Hermione took a nervous step forward.

“This seems to me like a false imprisonment based on shaky, unreliable sources,” she said, her eyes darting from one Wizengamot member to the next as she spoke. “I do recall another innocent man you locked away without a trial, and he spent twelve years in Azkaban as a result. I do hope the Wizengamot will not make the same mistake twice.”

“Everything my alpha has done, he has done for the good of our people,” Adina added, “he will never be a good man by your standards, but he has saved our lives time and time again, and does so with zero expectation of appreciation for his actions. He is by far one of the people most undeserving of your foul treatment over these last weeks.”

“Alpha changed pack life for subs like us, and made it less dangerous to be unattached,” Tavish added, “I owe him my life, and I will die before I let him go back to Azkaban—especially when I have it in my power to make a stand.”

“Greyback attacked my brother during the war,” Ron said, his voice edged with nervousness. “He isn't a werewolf, but he does carry certain werewolf traits now. I hated him for a long time, but through Harry, Ulrich, and Remus, and all the others, I've come to see that he's not the man that we at the Ministry have always painted him as—I agree that he does not deserve this rash punishment.”

“Alpha marked me and turned me against my will,” Harry said, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from Tavish, and the way Ulrich's hand tensed in his. “But he did it for my benefit. Due to my human-werewolf mating bond with—with Remus,” Harry cut himself off when his voice caught, and took a breath in an attempt to calm himself before he continued.

“I had suffered a partial turning, which was no one's fault, it was one of those things that just sort of happened. Even if I had been bound to another werewolf I think it would have happened anyway. I needed to be turned, or the partial turning would play havoc with my mind and my magic. He did it to save me, and since joining his pack I have never in my life felt so welcomed as I do there. _They_ are my family now, and that is a gift that Alpha gave to me. I am very grateful for it.”

“Alpha saved me from my former human partner and myself,” Ulrich said, his voice trembling a little, though Harry could not tell whether it was from deep emotion or nervousness. “My former human partner was...he did some very bad things. Alpha helped me, gave me a place in his pack, and later, a higher rank just below his own. He is like a brother to me, and I will fight tooth and nail to keep him free. He is innocent of these charges you have laid upon him.”

Absolute silence followed Ulrich's statement. Tavish and Adina were holding hands and looked a little misty-eyed, while Greyback, still bound, looked as though he had been hit in the face with a brick. He appeared completely overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, and Kingsley, as well as several other Wizengamot members, seemed equally stunned by what they were hearing.

Kingsley glanced around the room, and took a slow breath as he began to speak again.

“Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?” Kingsley asked, and Harry held his breath as he watched hands begin to rise. Kingsley and Percy were amongst them, and he did a quick count, and felt his heart swell—

Close to two thirds of the Wizengamot had voted in Greyback's favour.

“And those in favour of conviction?”

The unpleasant woman from earlier raised her hand at once, as well as a smattering of older Wizengamot members, but not near enough for him to be convicted. Next to him, Harry heard Tavish's soft, excited gasp.

Kingsley knocked his gavel once.

“Cleared of all charges.”

 

~*~

 

Tavish and Adina just barely managed to contain themselves until Greyback had been processed and given back his normal clothes before they both lunged at him, and he grunted as the pair of subs tearfully clung to their mate, both taking turns offering him warm kisses of welcome.

Given that Greyback had never been overly open with his affection towards Adina and Tavish, this was the first time Harry had ever seen them kiss like this, and he found it a little bizarre to see. Hermione had giggled a little at the subs' excitement, while red-faced, both Remus and Ron looked away from the scene.

A thick arm coiled around Harry's waist, and Harry looked up to Ulrich with a small smile, and leant into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and Harry's eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation.

“Alpha, we need to celebrate,” Tavish said enthusiastically when he pulled back from their kiss, though his hands were still resting against his chest. One of Greyback's arms was draped both protectively and possessively around Tavish's waist, holding him close, while Adina was nestled in the crook of his other arm. “We should have a feast tonight. Can we? _Please?_ ”

“I'll speak to the hunting party when we get back,” Greyback replied, and Tavish's face split into a wide grin, before he turned to Ron. “Normally I do not allow humans in my territory, but you have proven yourself as friend to our kind, and you are Granger's mate. You would be welcome to join us—given that the moon just ended, you would be in no danger.”

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock at the same moment that Ron's had, and he looked over to his fiancée nervously, only to receive a small, encouraging nod in response.

“Thank you, er, _Alpha_ , it'd be an honour.”

Both Harry and Hermione beamed at him, while Greyback turned his attention over to Remus.

“And you, Remus?” he said, and his words were met with a small smile.

“I appreciate the offer, Alpha, but I am afraid that I must be getting back,” he replied, and Greyback jerked his head in a small nod. He reached forward and clapped Remus on the shoulder, hard enough that even at a distance Harry saw the other dominant's body jerk slightly.

“You are Pack, Remus. You will always be welcome if you change your mind. Take care of yourself,” he said, and Remus nodded again.

“Thank you, Alpha,” he replied, and he moved as though to sweep his gaze over the group, though his eyes lingered on Harry more than on anyone else. “Goodbye.”

Remus turned and walked away from the group, while Ulrich's arm wrapped more securely around Harry's waist, and he brushed a kiss to his temple.

“Come on,” Ulrich whispered to him, “let's go home.”

 


	22. Uncovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **Warning** this chapter contains a scene of extreme violence and gore. At this point, I think you guys know that I'm not exaggerating here. Next update will be this Thursday, September 7th.

Chapter Twenty-Two – Uncovered

 

The moment the group reappeared in the territory, Harry saw the dominant Ulrich had left in charge, Wu Fei, running towards them. He was panting a little, and his sleek black hair that had been pulled away from his face in a topknot was now dishevelled, and partially obscured his azure eyes. His face was flushed, and there was a hastily patched up fresh wound on the left side of his bare chest.

Harry could smell blood on the air, and he sniffed sharply at the same moment that the others did, and he saw Ron in his peripheral vision widen his eyes and look around in confusion as the werewolf approached.

“Alpha! Thank the Gods, welcome back!” he cried as he skidded to a halt before the enormous dominant. Wu Fei was a strong dominant in his own right, but standing before Greyback, he looked almost comically small.

“Wu Fei, what happened?” Greyback demanded without preamble, and the other dominant smiled.

“While you lot were away...I found a fox in our hen house.”

Greyback's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Ulrich's arm at Harry's waist tensed.

“Come on, I'll explain, and then we can decide what to do about it,” Wu Fei replied, and Greyback nodded his head once.

“Ulrich, with me. Granger, keep an eye on your human,” Greyback said as he fell in step with his subordinates, and all three stalked off without a word.

“So much for a party...” Tavish mumbled as he watched the three dominants go, and his shoulders slumped a little.

“We still can,” Adina assured him as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug and led him away from the Apparition point, and the others followed them. “Alpha just needs to take care of this first, that's all.”

Tavish nodded and fell silent, while next to Harry, Ron was grinning at Hermione.

“So I'm _your_ human now?” he teased, and she giggled as she took his hand.

“You can be Harry's human if you want,” she teased, and Harry and Ron both snorted.

“I just mean...I thought I was a guest, Greyback made it sound like I'm a prisoner or something.”

“Most of the werewolves here are pretty mistrustful of humans, and you're a pureblooded male,” Harry filled in, while Hermione let her instincts take over, and with a very un-Hermioneish giggle, she got on her toes and scented him, making Ron's ears go bright red. Harry coughed to mask a laugh, but he couldn't help but grin at them. “You, er, make them a little nervous, so if Hermione sticks close to you, they won't feel like you're as much of a threat.”

“And this clinging thing you're doing?” Ron asked Hermione, his voice quivering a little, not that Harry could really blame him. Hermione had never been much for Public Displays of Affection, and likely this apparent personality switch was throwing him off a little.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Hermione asked uncertainly, but at the same time Harry saw her arms tense around him.

“ _Uncomfortable_ isn't exactly the word I'd use...” Ron muttered, and Harry snorted.

“Sorry,” Hermione mumbled, and when Harry saw the stricken look cross Ron's face when he realized his mistake, he quickly turned to Tavish and Adina to give the couple a little privacy.

“Fox in our hen house?” he asked the other two subs softly, “does that mean we've got a traitor?”

“Sounds like it,” Tavish replied in the same tone, “either way, we'll know soon enough. Traitors are given a public execution.”

Harry grimaced at this, but did not offer up a comment. When they'd made it back to the main area of the territory, he did not miss how more than a few subs skirted around them, though they were uncertain if it was Ron's presence causing it, or Hermione's.

“Come on,” Hermione said as she closed two hands over one of Ron's, “let's go sit over here.”

Without waiting for a response, Hermione led them a little way away from the others, and far from the other dominants. She did not let go of Ron's hand, and the ginger looked a little alarmed at Hermione's attitude. Harry exchanged a look with his fellow subs, and they both nodded, indicating that they, too, understood why Hermione was so on edge and handsy.

“Hermione?” Harry said suddenly, and her gaze snapped over to Harry, her eyes wide and alarmed as though she'd only just noticed his and the other subs' presence. “Ron's probably hungry, why don't you go see if you can find something for him to eat? We'll all keep an eye on him while you're gone.”

“Oh...” she looked back to Ron uncertainly, and bit her bottom lip.

“Alpha and Ulrich will be back soon, too,” Tavish added in the same reassuring tone that Harry had used, “we won't let anyone near him, we promise. Go on, go get something for him.”

With Tavish's encouragement, Hermione reluctantly let go of Ron and headed over to the kitchen tents, but she looked back every few paces to look at Ron, the uncertain look never leaving her eyes.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Ron hissed the moment she was out of earshot. “She's never acted like that before. What's going on?”

“Ron, breathe,” Harry said gently, “it's not completely her fault. She's a dominant, and they're naturally possessive of their mates—you, in this case. The wolf part of her mind sees you as _hers,_ and this is the first time she's been with you and surrounded by her own kind. She's nervous, and wants to protect you. It's not bad, exactly, she's just anxious.”

“After the stress of the trial and everything, she's probably extra on-edge; she did a lot of work for it,” Tavish added, “she probably is thinking in a one-track dom werewolf way, and just wants to drag you off, and—” Harry elbowed him sharply to shut him up, while Ron once more flushed a deep scarlet.

Hermione was quick to return, and smiled bashfully as she offered Ron a bowl of stew and good, crusty bread. None of the subs were surprised that she had forgotten about them, but Ron seemed to feel slightly awkward about being tended to like this. The trio did their best to engage Ron and Hermione in conversation, but both were clearly tense, Ron due to being unused to this sort of treatment, and Hermione for being with her mate in front of her own kind for the first time—despite the fact that they were a good twenty feet from the rest of the pack.

About an hour after their return, Greyback re-emerged from the cabins with Ulrich and Wu Fei, and he looked furious. Both Wu Fei and Ulrich were each sporting a struggling captive. The first was a wizard that Harry did not know, but given that he was dressed in Auror robes, the second one was a werewolf whom Harry recognized at once.

Bryce.

Greyback turned to Wu Fei, who was restraining the Ministry official, and muttered something to him. He nodded and dragged away the wizard towards the pack's Apparition Point, while Ulrich, his lip curled back in disgust, dragged Bryce forward, a half step behind their alpha. At the same moment, Ron muttered something to Hermione, kissed her once, and jumped up to run after Wu Fei, his shoulders thrown back as he assumed his _Auror_ position.

“We have a traitor in our midst,” Greyback called as he ignored Ron's actions, and kept his attention on his pack. “The Circle of Execution must be enacted. Step forward, Silas, Saidi, Duncan, Quan, Tzvi, and Dimitri.”

Six dominants stood and stepped forward, their jaws set in a grimace, and they approached their alpha and Ulrich, shifting until they had crated a perfect circle around them. Ulrich shoved Bryce away from him, his lip curled in disgust, and the large dom tumbled into the centre of the circle. His hands had been bound at his back, and he was looking around wildly, his eyes bulging with panic. Ulrich stepped back, and the other dominants made room for him in the circle.

“You have been judged guilty of dropping the warding around the territory twice in recent history, first to let the rogues in, the second time to conspire with wizardkind explicitly to imprison your alpha and gain control of this pack,” Greyback said, his voice so low that Harry had to almost strain his ears to hear it. “What say you?”

“You have sullied our ways, Greyback,” Bryce snarled, “you let subs run wild, you seal the unmated ones away from us, and you keep us from taking what is _ours_. You tear our traditions to pieces, and this pack would be leaps and bounds better with _me_ in charge and you know it.”

“A submissive is not yours to take,” Greyback growled back at him, “they are deserving of peace and dignity, as much as you. They will not live their lives here constantly fearful that they will be assaulted by any dominant that takes a liking to them. For your crimes, you will be executed in the manner of our forebears—the Wolf Death Circle. Remember that you have no one to lay blame on for this—it is your own doing that brought your demise.”

Greyback reached forward while Bryce squirmed, struggled, and shouted a number of expletives at the alpha as he closed a hand at his throat, and flexed the fingers of his free hand. He grimaced, and Harry watched with wide eyes as sharp, black claws replaced his nails.

Greyback dug the claw of his pointer finger into Bryce's bare chest, and the condemned man howled in pain as the alpha proceeded to carve a rune into his chest—a V with a diamond affixed to the meeting point.

“Reversed Othel,” Hermione whispered to the others, “to face whatever is to come alone.”

Greyback growled, and shoved the dominant down. Bryce hardly looked like himself anymore. He was pale and shaking, and his skin had taken on a sickly tinge from his fright. Rivulets of blood trickled down from the mark on his chest, and around him the seven other dominants began to shed their clothes. Tavish and Adina jumped up, and Tavish dragged Harry to his feet at the same time.

“Come on,” he whispered, “we're supposed to take the clothing of our doms and tend to them when it's all over.”

Too stunned to feel alarmed, Harry followed the others and took his place behind Ulrich while he stripped. His expression was set and stony, and Harry reached out for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze of reassurance. His expression did not change, but he nodded minutely.

Harry mimicked the other submissives, and took six large steps back, while all the present dominants began to transform into their wolf forms, except for Greyback, who stood back and watched, his arms crossed, with his two mates flanking him.

The seven wolves closed ranks around Bryce, and circled him like a pinwheel of multicoloured fur—black, dark grey, brown, russet, mottled grey and black, tawny, and black with flecks of white.

The circling went on for barely fifteen seconds and then the screaming began.

Harry grimaced, and he felt the bile rise in his throat as he looked on. He couldn't see much beyond the mess of fur, but he could easily hear the wet snap of bone, he could smell the sharp tang of blood heavy on the air. All the while, Bryce was screaming.

Less than five minutes passed, and the seven werewolves stepped back towards their respective mates, their jaws bloody. As Bryce came back into view, Harry felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

Bryce's body was a mess. His limbs stuck out at odd angles and the bone pierced the flesh, his chest had been ripped open and he lay in a pool of his own blood. Most of his organs had been torn open or otherwise shredded, but his lungs were untouched, and Harry swallowed past his increasing nausea, for he could see the organ inflate and deflate as he lay there, breathing shallowly, his eyes wide with fright.

Greyback stepped forward. He shed his scant amount of clothing and handed them to Adina. She wrapped them over her arm and kept her gaze fixed forward.

His change was more fluid than the others, and the familiar black wolf, grey streaking its back, stepped forward, his teeth bared in a dangerous snarl.

“Alpha,” Bryce gurgled, his eyes wide, “Alpha, please...please, _no_...”

His feeble pleas fell on deaf ears as Greyback stepped forward, closed his jaws around Bryce's throat, and his neck snapped loudly, echoing through the dead silence of the territory.

The dominants all changed back to their respective human forms, but did not stand, and instead pressed their palms to the ground. Harry's eyes widened a little as what looked to him like a red lightning bolt shot from their palms, across the grass, and to Bryce's corpse, where it suddenly caught fire.

They stood again and faced the burning body, while Greyback remained down on one knee.

“May you find your penance in the next life,” Greyback whispered, before he finally stood back up.

Ulrich turned to Harry, his face still expressionless. His jaw and upper chest were stained with blood, and it was already drying to a muted rust colour on Ulrich's tan skin.

Harry looked up at the dominant uncertainly, and Ulrich bowed his head a little. Harry took a tentative step forward, and Ulrich immediately wrapped an arm around him to draw him close, pressing Harry into his side in an effort to keep from getting the blood on him.

They headed towards the cabins, while Harry turned his gaze briefly back towards Hermione, only to see her heading for the Apparition Point without looking back. Apparently sensing his gaze, Hermione turned back and offered him a small smile and nod of her head. Harry returned it, then refocused his attention on his emotionally and physically drained mate.

The pair made it to their cabin without a word to each other, and they headed for the bathroom in silence.

The bathrooms set up in the cabins for the pack's use were far from glamorous, but certainly not unpleasant. The floor comprised of hard-packed earth covered in smooth stones, but warm to the touch regardless of season, and the bath itself was a hole sunk into the centre of the floor, lined with charmed marble and filled from the base by an underwater pipe. It was constantly full of hot water, but filtered out any dirt and grime that accumulated through the porous marble, and it never grew dirty or unsanitary.

Harry stripped his clothes off and stepped into the bath with Ulrich. He grabbed a flannel and some soap, then proceeded to mop the drying blood from his face and chest silently.

Neither man spoke, and as Harry set back down the flannel, Ulrich cupped the hot water in his hands and used it to rinse his mouth of blood. When he looked back up, his face was lined with guilt, Harry felt his heart break a little for him.

Without a word, Harry climbed into his lap and kissed him gently, tenderly. He could still taste blood on his breath, but Harry paid it no mind in the same way that he brushed the tears from Ulrich's cheeks without comment.

They did not spend very long in their bath. They stepped out and spelled themselves dry, then moved back to the main area of the cabin hand in hand.

Ulrich pulled Harry towards the bed, a pleading look in his eyes, and Harry acquiesced without complaint, allowing the dominant to pull him close. He captured Harry's mouth in a kiss, and with slow, languid movements he rocked his hips, tickling Harry's budding erection with his own hard member. Harry whimpered and arched his hips, reaching up to wrap his arms around the dominant's neck while he moved, meeting Ulrich's movements with slow gyrations of his own.

“Harry...” Ulrich whispered softly, reverently, while his lips moved to trail along his throat, and Harry keened, arching into the touch with a gentle sigh of contentment.

Ulrich bit down at the hollow of Harry's throat, not hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough to bruise, the action eliciting a sharp hiss from his sub.

His tongue laved over the mark, soothing the sting while he pawed at the floor next to the bed, and eventually he found the lubricant.

Sensing his partner's urgent need, Harry rolled onto his belly, exposing himself to Ulrich completely. He heard the soft scrape of the jar opening, and shivered when he felt a single digit brush against his hole.

Ulrich teased his entrance, pressing barely a centimetre in, then pulling out, and repeated this several times before he pushed in properly, and his finger sunk past Harry's guardian muscles and nestled in his arse smoothly.

Harry groaned and pressed back against the digit, which was met with a soft chuckle at his obvious impatience. A gentle kiss brushed against the back of his neck, while a second finger wiggled its way into his arse. Harry's head dropped forward, and once more he pressed back against the fingers insistently.

He did not miss the way Ulrich shivered with silent laughter at Harry's actions, and he withdrew his fingers at last to replace it with his cock.

Even with the preparation it still burned, and Harry fisted the bedding as he gritted his teeth against the pain. At first, Ulrich did not seem to notice, but when a soft hiss escaped the sub, he froze.

“Am—am I hurting you?” Ulrich asked hoarsely, one hand dropping to the small of Harry's back to rub the taut muscle he found there.

“It's okay,” Harry replied in a whisper, “keep going.”

Ulrich obeyed, and slid the rest of the way into Harry's arse, pausing again only when he had fully sheathed himself inside him.

Light kisses peppered the back of Harry's neck, and slowly the pain began to ebb. All the while, Ulrich continued to rub the small of his back in an effort to help relax him. After all that had happened, the gentle touches were rendering his muscles to the same density as jelly. And he bowed forward to rest his head on his arms.

Harry gave a small nod for Ulrich to continue, and very slowly the dominant withdrew from Harry's arse, and slid back in. His thrusts were slow, precise, and Harry let out a little moan of his own just as Ulrich's own vocalization passed his lips, but it was a far and away from the one he had expected to hear. At first, Harry had almost thought that he had misheard it—Ulrich, strong, sure, _wonderful_ Ulrich couldn't be _crying_.

That was, until Harry felt a hot tear drip onto his shoulder blade, and it trickled to the centre of his back.

“Ulrich?” Harry asked uncertainly, his voice rough from Ulrich's continued thrusts. “Ulrich, are you all right?”

“Please, Harry,” Ulrich whispered hoarsely, followed by a soft sniffle, “please...I need you...”

Alarmed, Harry fell back into a rhythm with his dominant, but as Ulrich continued to make love to him as he wept, Harry was unable to find his release, even as Ulrich's hot seed painted his insides.

The moment Ulrich pulled out, Harry rolled over to look at him. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his face was tear-stained and he was sniffling almost continually. Harry leant in and kissed the dominant's lips gently.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked softly, and smiled at him, “was I that bad?” to the feeble joke, Ulrich laughed weakly and shook his head.

“I'm sorry, Harry, I just...I hate doing executions. They make me...its necessary, according to Alpha, but to be asked to kill, it's not easy.” He rubbed at his eyes roughly, and took a deep breath as he looked away from Harry and to the blank ceiling of the little cabin. “You must think I'm so damn pathetic.”

“I remember,” Harry replied softly as he settled in next to Ulrich, and draped an arm across his chest and pressed his cheek against his shoulder. “ _neither can live while the other survives,_ and all that. I don't want to make it sound like I'm—I'm—diminishing your pain or something, I just mean that I get it.” Harry paused to press a kiss to Ulrich's shoulder. “Cry all you want, I don't think any less of you for it. It means you're...well, not _human_ , but you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Ulrich replied with a chuckle, and drew Harry closer to him. “Let's try and get some rest, it's been a long few days.”

Nodding, Harry shut his eyes as Ulrich extinguished the oil lamp next to their bed and the fire in the pit with a few quick flicks of his wand. He snuggled closer to the dominant, when a sudden question occurred to him.

“Ulrich?”

“Hm?”

“Er...what happened to...to _him_ after...with the fire? Was that werewolf magic?” Harry asked, and he felt Ulrich shift next to him, rolling over to properly face the sub.

“Yes it was,” Ulrich replied, his tone of voice a little hoarse. “I would have offered to teach it to you, but it's an art very few subs have ever been able to master. Many of them just stick to wizard magic, because it's easier to control.”

“Oh.” Harry pressed his cheek against the side of Ulrich's chest, uncertain what to say. He wanted to ask further about it, but it seemed tactless to do so at the present moment. One of Ulrich's hands moved to his hair and stroked the unruly locks lightly, and slowly Harry listened to his breathing pattern change, and the hand in his hair fell away as the dominant finally fell asleep.

In the silence that followed, Harry began to reflect on everything that had happened over the last few days. Despite his reluctance to remember it, Remus's heartfelt goodbye from earlier that day floated to the forefront of his mind.

_I wish I still had you in my life._

_I hurt you, and you were the one person that I never wanted to hurt._

_Once this is all over, I will do all that I can to stay out of your way._

_Your life and mine are no longer intertwined._

Tears of his own sprang to Harry's eyes, and he clutched more tightly to Ulrich while his stomach twisted with a burning guilt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The rune factoid is based on information pulled from The Runes Book by Horik Svensson. It's not the most accurate book in the world so it might be a little off, but I didn't have any material to cross-reference it with.


	23. Confessional

Chapter Twenty-Three – Confessional

 

Harry wove through his students, watching as they charmed various stuffed toys to tap-dance across an expanse of about five feet, before their partner took a turn. He would pause occasionally to correct a wand movement or incantation pronunciation, but on the whole, his pupils were making remarkable progress, and it brought a small, proud smile to his face.

As Harry moved, he reflected on the past weeks within the territory, and struggled to keep his expression neutral as he did so.

Things had gone back to normal—no more rogues, no more Ministry grunts, no more traitors in their ranks. Harry visited occasionally with Hermione and Ron as they began to make steady progress in their plans for their wedding, he spent time with Ulrich, and life as they knew it seemed to finally be righting itself.

Or so it seemed.

Harry kept his misery sealed tightly under lock and key, and felt a fresh surge of guilt envelop him every time he thought on why he didn't feel happier with his life.

He missed Remus.

Terribly.

It was like a constant ache in the pit of his stomach that refused to go away, and Harry _hated_ it.

It was quite clear that Remus was not the man he had been when they had been together—both from his short interactions with him during the chaos of Greyback's sudden arrest, and the tidbits of information that had been shared with him from Ginny, who seemed to have befriended him in Harry's absence—what he learnt through these interactions with his ex-girlfriend was that Remus was really and truly trying to make himself better.

 

“ _He's told me that he sees his Mind Healer twice a week, and he's been visiting with McGonagall more—I think she's sort of become one of his only friends who is not decades younger than him,” Ginny said in a conversational tone over tea one day, the corners of her mouth twitching into a small, amused smile. “He asks about you a lot, but only little things, asking about how you're doing, and if you're enjoying teaching, those sorts of things. He never asks about Ulrich or anything really personal.”_

_Harry picked at the petit-four on his plate, and looked around the maisonette that had so recently become Ginny's home. As he took in the grandiose décor that_ had _to be Malfoy's influence, Harry struggled to work out what exactly he was feeling in response to her words._

“ _He still loves you, you know,” Ginny said, filling the silence. Harry looked up sharply, his eyes widening a little, and Ginny smiled knowingly. “He never says it, he's adamant about not repeating all the bad things he's done, but every time he asks about you...I can see it.”_

“ _I—I can't go down that road again, Ginny,” Harry muttered, his gaze dropping to the small confections, “there's too much risk.”_

“ _I never said that, Harry.”_

 

Thinking back on the conversation did not help to improve his mood, and with a heavy sigh, Harry tried to focus on his students to distract himself from his conflicted mind.

 

By evening, the miserable train of thought had still not left him. He picked at his food, but he did not feel the least bit hungry. He had pressed himself fast against Ulrich's side, but despite the comforting warmth of the dominant's presence, the sensation did not reach his heart. Giving up on the idea of eating, Harry set aside his bowl and moved to stand up. Predictably, Ulrich grabbed his wrist in a gentle hold.

“Hey, where are you off to?” he asked, and Harry offered him a small smile of reassurance.

“Just a bit antsy, I want to stretch my legs,” Harry explained, “I need a little me time. I'll meet you in the cabin later, yeah?”

“All right, don't go too far.”

“I'll stay close,” Harry reassured him, and leant in for a quick kiss before he offered Ulrich's hand one last squeeze before he stepped away from the dominant and headed for the treeline.

 

True to his word, Harry stayed close, inside the territory's warding, and wove through the trees, his hands crammed into his pockets and his head bowed forward. The moment he was out of sight of the others he allowed his neutral mask to fall, and he felt his whole body slump forward slightly, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Harry stopped when he came upon an old tree with thick, low-hanging boughs, and he hoisted himself into it. Monkey-like, he clambered from branch to branch until he was about twelve feet up, then with his legs dangling off the bough, he pressed his back against the trunk, and sighed heavily as he allowed his melancholic mood to take him over.

_I still love him,_ Harry thought miserably, _no matter what I do, I still love him._

His thoughts jumped to Ulrich, and his stomach knotted with guilt again. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was hurt him—Ulrich had been so good to him, and anything that pointed towards the possibility that he might break the dominant's heart made Harry feel positively sick.

Harry knew now that he could no longer deny that his feelings for Remus had not changed, and he was still in love with him. At the same time, while he felt affection for Ulrich, it was like comparing apples and oranges. He was certain that he never _could_ feel for Ulrich the way he felt for Remus, despite the fact that he'd made every effort to move forward from Remus, quite simply, he _couldn't._

_And Remus has gotten over you, don't forget that,_ Harry's mind supplied for him, as he once more his thoughts jumped back to their last conversation.

 

... _I will do all that I can to stay out of your way..._

 

“ _Fuck..._ ” Harry hissed as he felt his throat tighten, and he lifted his gaze to the darkening sky. The midsummer moon, so close to full hung above him in silent promise, and Harry hoped that at least part of his hectic, surging emotions was the oncoming moon, and not his heart calling out to Remus.

 

Harry returned to the cabin an hour later, exhausted, but calm, and he find Ulrich already in bed, propped up and waiting for him. Harry performed his bedtime rituals sluggishly, then as he approached Ulrich, he immediately lifted his arm to welcome Harry, and he immediately burrowed into the offered embrace.

“Feel any better?” Ulrich murmured while his hand ran up and down Harry's spine gently, “you looked downright miserable earlier.”

“I'm okay,” Harry replied vaguely as he rested his head against Ulrich's bicep like some sort of living pillow, “just thinking about...stuff.”

“Hm,” Ulrich intoned, his voice neutral as he leant in to kiss Harry lightly. Harry welcomed it, and his dominant drew him close.

The couple did no more than snog, both so worn out by both the impending moon and the chaos of the last weeks that they both fell asleep rather quickly. Harry was burrowed deeply into Ulrich's embrace, while Ulrich, unwavering, held securely to him.

 

~*~

 

By the full moon, Harry felt as though he had mastered the art of smiling past his inner turmoil, but he should have known that Hermione would see right through him.

“What's the matter, Harry?” she asked as they made their customary walk around the edges of the territory to catch up, “good Lord, I feel like I'd find more cheer in a graveyard.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Harry replied, and rolled his eyes. “I've just been...I dunno, thinking about things.”

“Would these things involve a certain older man that you haven't seen for roughly four weeks?” Hermione asked innocently, and Harry felt his cheeks flush a deep scarlet.

“Am I that obvious?” he asked, his voice little more than a mumble, and she laughed softly.

“Just a little, but I _know_ you, Harry,” Hermione replied with a small, warm smile, “it's pretty obvious what's going on in that head of yours.”

“I feel like one of those brainwashed women who go running back to their abuser or something...like I haven't learnt my lesson?” Harry asked miserably, “haven't I suffered _enough?_ I don't _want_ these feelings...” Harry trailed off and raked a hand through his hair as he stared down at his shuffling feet, “and—and—God, what about Ulrich? I care about him, I don't want to hurt him.”

“Harry, slow down,” Hermione said gently. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, slowing him to a stop. “First off—and I know in the beginning I was not exactly the biggest supporter after, well, _you know,_ but the situation was never as simple as simple as _Remus abused you_. You had very powerful Primal Magic weaving through both of your heads, and it messed you both up very, _very_ badly. It came out in Remus as jealousy with _the incident_ , then in a misguided self-sacrificing stunt when your partial turning happened. I'm not saying this as a way to excuse Remus's behaviour; but you can't sweep it under the rug and blame it entirely on the bond or Remus, it was a lot of things.”

“What does it matter, anyway?” Harry mumbled, “even after the bond broke, he was still...he still did bad things. He came here, he tried to lay claim to me in his wolf form, he fought with Ulrich...Don't make excuses for him; that was _all_ Remus and you know it.”

“I'm not trying to make excuses for him,” Hermione replied patiently, “there is _no_ excusing what he's done—even Remus agrees on that front. But he is now trying to work through everything in a healthy manner—he is socializing, he has his Mind Healer who he can talk to, he sees Ginny quite often, and I've visited with him a few times, too.”

“Why is he doing all that _now_?”

“Because he's trying to better himself; not for you, but for him. He's accepted that you no longer want him, and he's trying to move forward from that. He still loves you, I think he always will, but he doesn't want to hurt you anymore, and so he is doing his best to stay away from you, and not make your life any more complicated.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that; part of his mind still felt as though Remus might be doing all this in an effort to get him back, while another, stronger part felt positively horrified at the implication of Remus leaving him behind.

_Not yet,_ Harry thought, _I'm not ready to let go of him yet._

The intrusive thought caught Harry off-guard, and as he shook his head in an effort to clear it, Hermione spoke again.

“I'm not saying all this to try and tell you what to do,” Hermione said, and offered him a small, reassuring smile. “It's not my place to tell you what to do or who to be with. All I mean is that he's...better.”

Harry offered her a noncommittal grunt as he nodded his head, but didn't comment. Hermione seemed to understand this, and they finished their walk in silence.

 

~*~

 

Despite his maudlin mood, Harry passed the remainder of the day peacefully enough, and at sunset he went with Ulrich to their own corner of the territory for the change without a word.

The pair stripped off and left their clothes in a place where they were least likely to be shredded by excitable pups, and Ulrich sat back down on the dewy grass. Harry rested down between the dominant's long legs, and immediately arched up to kiss him. Ulrich wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and drew him closer, and he shivered as he felt the light of the moon wash over them, bringing his flesh to life.

“It's coming,” Harry breathed, and Ulrich groaned a little.

“I feel it, too,” Ulrich replied as he let Harry go, and not a moment too soon as Harry felt the change take hold.

Harry shuddered through the change, his moan of pain shifting to a howl, and as it approached completion Harry collapsed. He lay in the damp grass, panting hard as he recovered from the shock brought on by his transformation, while a familiar shadow loomed above him, and he lifted his gaze to see his mate standing over him, his dark grey fur a sharp contrast to his white, and Ulrich bowed forward to lick gently at his ears while around them the other werewolves began to stand up and stretch, the dominants mingling with with submissives, while Alpha circled the territory, ensuring that everyone was all right.

Harry stood up and shook himself, while his mate pressed against his side, and bumped Harry's muzzle with his own affectionately. Harry returned the gesture automatically, but even as he did so, he got the sense that something was wrong... _off_.

He whined, and stepped from foot to foot uncertainly, while Ulrich continued to try and console him. Harry accepted the affectionate touches, but they did little to quell the ache in his gut that told him that something was _wrong_.

The sensation continued, and it was to the point that Ulrich chose to stay behind when the hunting party went out, and Hermione went in his stead. Harry paced, he circled the territory, and he dogged his mate's steps like a duckling and its mother, but no matter what Ulrich did, the unease and feeling of sheer _wrongness_ refused to leave him.

Harry lay down by the fire with a heavy sigh, and he started slightly when Ulrich's much larger body encircled his, and he rested his head on top of Harry's with a soft huff.

Harry burrowed into Ulrich's warmth, and felt a wave of calm wash over him as he lay there. The sensation almost—but not quite—reached his heart. For the moment, he was content to ignore that particular sensation, and he was able to momentarily find some kind of peace from this strange misery as he lay there.

They both could hear and smell the hunting party return, but when Harry was disinclined to move, Ulrich stayed behind, tending to his mate without a word of complaint, despite the fact that Harry could _feel_ Ulrich's stomach rumble in protest.

With some difficulty, Harry wiggled out from under Ulrich, and urged his mate to do the same, and slowly began to bump his head against the dominant's hindquarters, urging him towards the meal. Ulrich appeared reluctant, but Harry continued to insistently nudge him in the direction of the carcasses, encircled by the pack while they waited for their alpha and his mates to finish eating.

They arrived at the edge of the group just as Alpha, Tavish, and Adina stepped back, and Harry urged Ulrich over to the meal. He wiggled in next to the dominant and managed a few bites, while Ulrich devoured the meat very quickly, so fast in fact that it was something of a marvel that he didn't bring it all back up from overwhelming his stomach from the speed in which he was eating.

Harry stepped back and sat down, still wholly uninterested in eating, and he patiently waited for Ulrich to finish. While he waited, the familiar form of Hermione loped towards him, and nudged his muzzle with hers, while she let out a concerned whine.

In the same instant, Ulrich whirled around and snapped at her, and Hermione snapped back on reflex, rather than actual anger. Harry scooted back from the two dominants, and not a moment too soon as Alpha forced himself between Hermione and Ulrich, defusing the fight before it could get out of hand. Hermione lurched forward again, but a low growl from their alpha was enough to make her back off, and with her head bowed, she scuttled away from the pair bond.

Ulrich, apparently still a little edgy, herded Harry away from the others, and settled down with him far from the other pack members. He lay down, while Harry let out a low whine, and licked some of the blood from Ulrich's muzzle, to which he let out a soft huff, and nuzzled Harry gently.

Harry curled into his side, and Ulrich rested his head on top of his sub in a clear show of claim. He did not protest it, but instead shifted closer to his mate, and ever so slowly, they fell asleep.

 

~*~

 

When Harry woke the following morning, he felt completely drained and a bit queasy, almost like he was hungover. His head was pounding and his body felt heavy, and when he at last opened his eyes, still curled in Ulrich's embrace, he looked up to see that the dominant had been watching him while he slept.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Harry let out a small groan.

“Awful,” Harry replied in a mumble, “I feel like I downed a whole bottle of firewhisky or something.”

“You were a right misery last night, you barely ate, and all you wanted to do was sleep,” Ulrich said as he reached out to stroke Harry's hair lightly. “Do you remember any of it?”

“Not much,” Harry replied with a grimace, “just...I think you and Hermione fought?”

“I think _had a misunderstanding_ might be a better way of putting it,” Ulrich said, “she was worried for you, and I was overprotective. You can imagine how that played out.”

Harry nodded as he snorted a little, and his eyes fluttered shut again as Ulrich pressed a small kiss to his temple.

“Stay here,” he said, “I'll get us some food and clothing.”

Too tired to move, Harry nodded and slumped back down on the grass. He watched Ulrich go, and again he felt that tug at his heart.

_Life was just getting so good, why do I have to feel like this?_

Harry blinked hard, and had only just managed to calm himself down by the time Ulrich returned, he sparsely dressed in a pair of sturdy dark jeans and nothing else, while he offered similar garb to Harry(though with a jumper included), as well as a steaming bowl of porridge topped with fruit.

He accepted both items, and tugged on the jeans and thin jumper. Harry then picked up the bowl of offered food, while Ulrich sat at his back, and Harry leant comfortably into the wall of warm muscle.

“What about you?” Harry asked suddenly as he began to eat, and the hearty food helped to clear his head as they sat there, though his internal anguish did not fade at all.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, aren't you hungry?”

“I can wait,” Ulrich replied while he wrapped his arms around Harry's middle and offered him a small squeeze. “You hardly touched the hunts last night, and I'd like to see you eat.”

Harry smiled weakly, but did not respond as he settled back into Ulrich's embrace and ate quietly. As he sat there in the warm hold of someone who cared about him deeply, he felt his stomach twist with guilt.

Regardless what Harry did, he could not share Ulrich's feelings.

_I want to love him, but I can't,_ Harry thought sadly, _not when I'm still in love with..._

Harry jammed a large spoonful of porridge into his mouth in an effort to stop the thought from finishing itself.

He still loved Remus.

Perhaps, he always would.

Harry wished fervently as he sat there that he could work out what the right course of action was, but no answers came to him, and he ate in silence.

 

~*~

 

Later that day, Harry sidled up to Hermione as casually as he could, and asked her to go on a walk with him around the territory. As he did so, he struggled to ignore the sensation of Ulrich's eyes following him as she nodded and he led her away from the others.

“Hermione,” Harry said weakly the moment they were out of earshot, “I—I—” he broke off, uncertain how to phrase his latest problem. Hermione did not speak, but watched him and waited patiently for him to continue. “I'm still in love with Remus. I want him, I—I need him,” he said at last, and looked over at her miserably. She did not appear at all surprised by his confession. “But...I don't know if that's enough. What if...God, what if we get back together and something happens again?”

“You can't predict the future any better than Trelawney could,” Hermione said gently, and Harry laughed weakly. “I don't want to say that nothing will happen and you'll get your Happily Ever After, because life is unpredictable, and you attract trouble like no one else. But Remus still loves you, _and_ like I told you yesterday, a lot of his problems were exacerbated by the bond messing with his head. He had good intentions, he just...handled it very, very badly.”

“Understatement,” Harry replied with a small snort, and Hermione smiled at him sadly.

“Anyway, I think you should maybe think it over, maybe talk to Remus about it, but...” she paused, and her gaze shifted over to the main area of the territory. Harry followed her gaze to find it settled on Ulrich. He was smiling and chatting with Greyback; Harry felt his heart constrict at the sight of him, just as Hermione voiced the words that Harry didn't want to hear.

“Harry, if you love someone else, do the right thing, and let him go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And so we have arrived at the so-called turning point. I'm assuming a few of you will be very unhappy with the direction the fic is now taking(and have either thrown your phones across the room or angrily closed your browser tab at this point), but I tried to approach this as delicately as I could, as gradually as I could, to make time for the redemption arc to flow naturally, and not seem rushed. Generally I try to not justify my plot decisions to my readers (which to be honest I seem to be very bad at). In this case, I hope you guys won't be too pissed, though I am expecting angry comments, it's sort of a given with this fic, people are so passionate about it, which is both humbling and slightly terrifying at the same time. :P So those of you who are rage-quitting here, I understand, and I don't hold it against you.


	24. The Parting of the Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: GOOD NEWS! For you guys, anyway. Because of my schedule going off-kilter this week, you'll be getting THREE updates. Today, Wednesday, and Friday. Next week we'll be back to Tuesday and Thursday though. So that said, next update will be Wednesday, September 13th.
> 
> Also, I'd like to give a big thank-you to all my wonderful readers. With the last update, I was expecting much more angry meltdowns and less support than what I got. I just want to thank you guys for continuing to support this story, even if it's now headed in a direction you were hoping against.

Chapter Twenty-Four – The Parting of the Ways

 

Harry was beginning to find it harder and harder to maintain his  _everything is fine_  façade around Ulrich, especially when his mind was still in such deep turmoil.

Every day that passed, he went through the motions of his daily tasks—waking up with Ulrich, breakfasting, spending a few hours with his pupils, lunch, spending a few more hours with the pups, dinner, and then bed.

Interspersed with all this were small moments with Ulrich, and though Harry smiled through them, and Ulrich's embraces left him feeling warm and safe, they also left him feeling hollow.

 _This isn't right_ ,  _I'll need to tell him soon,_ Harry thought almost every night as he curled against Ulrich's chest and clenched his eyes shut. The anguish refused to die, and like so many nights before it, he fell asleep in a state close to tears.

All the while, Hermione's words rang in his head like church bells—

 

“ _Harry, if you love someone else, do the right thing, and let him go.”_

 

Harry knew that she was right, but at the same time he wished it was as easy as sitting down and telling Ulrich such a thing. When Harry tried to think of  _how_ to tell him, he was filled with such a deep sadness every time he envisioned the wounded, insecure look that Ulrich always adopted whenever he became uncertain of Harry's feelings towards him. Harry's guilt was so overwhelming that he wasn't certain he'd  _ever_ be able to actually admit to Ulrich what was going on—the idea of hurting him made him feel positively sick to his stomach.

At the same time however, he was overwhelmed with a deep longing for Remus.

Harry loved him, he did not doubt it any longer, and he knew that Remus loved him back—why else would he put himself through so much pain of coming here, and subjecting himself to so much hurt? Harry never fancied Remus to be the masochistic type, and he knew that everything Remus had done had all been for  _him_.

That knowledge filled Harry with equal parts misery and longing. It was impossible for him to completely dismiss all that Remus had done, but he also recognized that Remus was now making amends for his actions, both with Harry and himself.

 

~*~

 

Harry woke on the morning of his twenty-fourth birthday comfortably nestled in Ulrich's arms.

These days, it was not uncommon for him to dream of Remus, and he often he woke in a confusing state of misery and joy. Harry had yet to work out a way to explain to the dominant why he was waking up in tears almost every morning—if he'd ever caught him at it. Thankfully, Ulrich was a late sleeper, and he was able to avoid that particular discussion for the time being.

 

Close to two months had passed since Remus had left, and even with all the time that had passed, Harry still felt as though he'd lost a limb.

_I need him back._

The thought passed through Harry's mind for what felt like the hundredth time, and he cursed silently to himself as he shifted his gaze back to Ulrich's sleeping form.

One thick arm was draped across Harry's waist, Ulrich's lips were parted as he slept on, and his dark hair was fanned across his shoulder in a wavy curtain.

He looked so peaceful.

Harry felt a lump settle in his throat and he closed his eyes as his guilt once more settled itself in the pit of his stomach.

At almost the same moment, Harry felt Ulrich shift next to him, and his warm lips brushed the hollow of his throat before they covered his own in a gentle kiss, which Harry readily returned.

“Happy Birthday,” Ulrich murmured against his mouth, and Harry opened his eyes to smile up at the dominant.

“Thanks,” Harry replied with a small smile, and leant up to kiss him again.

“Twenty-four feel any different than twenty-five?”

“That's  _such_ an old man thing to say,” Harry remarked, and Ulrich snorted.

“Well, considering that I look  _good_ for my age, I'll let your little jibe go...just this once.”

“ _Only_ this once?” Harry asked, and he shivered a little as Ulrich's large hand pressed against his chest and trailed slowly down his front, stopping at the dark thatch of hair just above Harry's groin.

“Well, next time I might feel the need to  _punish_ you for remarking on my advanced age.”

“Hmm...promises, promises...” Harry teased, and reached up for Ulrich, one hand curling around his shoulder, and the other resting on the side of the dominant's neck as Harry pulled him in for a kiss.

Ulrich obliged him at once, their lips parting and tongues tangling together sloppily, both of them still waking up, and Ulrich let out a small groan of longing as he pulled Harry closer.

“I'd love to continue this,” the dominant murmured, “but I have it on good authority that your students are planning something special for you, and I'd hate for you to miss it...”

Harry groaned and slumped back against the mattress, which elicited a soft chuckle from Ulrich.

“You're a little bit evil, you know that, right?”

Ulrich did not verbally answer, but leant in for another kiss before he stood up and stretched, and Harry watched with a small, amused smile as the dominant sauntered starkers over to where they kept their clothing, grabbed something for the day, and meandered down the hall to the bathroom.

The moment Ulrich had gone, Harry let his smile fall, and he heaved a small sigh.

 _I'm going to have to tell him soon, this isn't fair to him,_  Harry thought as he rolled out of bed and grabbed his own set of clothes before he followed Ulrich's lead into the bathroom.

 

_But not today. I don't want to ruin today for him._

 

~*~

 

As promised, Harry's pupils had indeed planned something for him—a gladiator-style duelling contest.

Ulrich and Harry sat, watching the duels like a pair of Roman Emperors at the coliseum as Harry's students shot basic offensive and defensive spells at each other. Daanish was on hand to tend to the minor wounds that they caused each other, though luckily there were no injuries more serious than a bloody nose here and there.

It was great fun, if a bit embarrassing to be the centre of attention. Harry also enjoyed the experience of Ulrich waiting on him hand and foot, which, aside from being a little strange, was nice—though it also added to his guilt over everything that he knew was to come.

In addition to his students, Hermione stopped in at the territory with a pile of gifts for him from herself and the Weasleys, and even Tavish and Adina had given him a little something. The gifts were composed predominantly of sweets and alcohol, but he also got a few texts on charmwork and defensive spells from Hermione that would be very useful in teaching his kids.

On the whole, it had been a wonderful day, and as Harry and Hermione snuck off to walk and chat privately, it got even better.

“I've got news,” she said in a low whisper, “and you're the only one who knows, so don't tell anyone yet in case it doesn't...er, work out.”

“Oh?” Harry asked as he cocked an eyebrow at her, “what news?”

Hermione's face went pink, less like she was embarrassed or ashamed, and more like someone who had been holding their breath for far too long. Whatever it was, it was clear that she was bursting to tell him.

“I'm pregnant.”

The two words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, and immediately her eyes filled with tears, but Harry could tell that they were tears of joy, not sadness.

Harry did not hesitate, and immediately he pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned at once.

“You did it,” Harry said, and squeezed her more tightly, “I knew you would. Congratulations, Hermione.”

She nodded into the crook of his neck, then stepped back from him, still sniffling a little. Harry could not recall the last time he'd seen her so happy, and it warmed his heart to see it. After everything she'd gone through over the last few months, she  _absolutely_ deserved this happiness.

“Does Ron know yet?” Harry asked, and she shook her head mutely, which gave him pause. “Er...why not?”

“I don't want to jinx it by telling too many people...” Hermione explained with a small wince, “I know, logically, it won't make a difference either way, but...just in case. Once I get through my first trimester I'll tell him, but until then...”

“You should tell him, Hermione,” Harry said seriously, “he'll be really upset if he finds out that I knew and he didn't. He deserves to know.”

“But what if he gets all excited and I miscarry?” she asked, her voice just barely above a nervous whisper. “The fact that I'm pregnant at  _all_ flies in the face of everything we've been told, and it's a really delicate pregnancy, and what if—”

“—Ron will understand how risky this is,” Harry said, cutting her off. “We kept all sorts of mad secrets when we were at Hogwarts, and he'll understand if you don't want to tell people yet, but you  _need_ to tell him. It isn't fair.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Hermione shot back with a small frown, and her gaze flicked over to where Ulrich sat with Greyback. He was chatting softly with the alpha, and was keeping a close eye on Harry and Hermione's progression around the edge of the territory at the same time. “You haven't told him yet, have you?”

“I'm working up to it,” Harry muttered with a small grimace, “I don't want to hurt him, he's been so good to me...”

“With a breakup, no matter what you do, people will be hurt,” Hermione reminded him with a small frown. “You can stay with Ulrich if that is what you really want, but are you _really_  willing to settle? Are you okay with letting go of Remus completely?”

Harry turned away from her and closed his eyes, and once more, tried to work through all the emotions that were surging through his mind.

“I care about Ulrich, and I love Remus,” Harry replied, and grimaced as he spoke. “I feel like I'm being unfaithful to him, having these feelings for Remus, and...fuck, this is hard.”

“Listen to your heart, Harry,” Hermione encouraged. “Don't think about what I have said, or what Remus has said, or anyone else. Look into your heart, and who do you see?”

Harry closed his eyes again, and tried to listen to what Hermione was telling him to do.

_Look into my heart..._

Harry saw a picnic on the beach; he smelled parchment, ink, and sandalwood; he saw a man who could be satiated by a comfortable home-cooked meal and a good book, and little more.

A man who loved to learn, took every opportunity to educate himself and others, and came  _alive_ when given the opportunity to teach something to someone.

Harry delved deeper.

He saw a man who had fought hard for his life, who had fought against himself, and against the world. A man who lost everything, and somehow still managed to find the strength to go on; a man who  _always_ tried to do the right thing, no matter the cost to himself.

“...oh.”

Remus.

As it had been from the beginning, it had  _always_ been Remus.

“It's okay, Harry,” Hermione said softly as she reached for his hand and offered it a small squeeze. “It'll work out one way or another, you'll see.”

Harry smiled weakly, but somehow, he doubted it.

 

~*~

 

Harry and Hermione returned to the main hustle and bustle of the territory, and Ulrich greeted Harry enthusiastically with a warm embrace and a kiss. Harry forced himself to smile through the loving touches and kisses, and tried to ignore Hermione's disapproving frown.

 _Not now,_ he told himself firmly,  _soon, but not yet._

Harry's birthday wasn't over yet, and after dinner (which, thankfully, did  _not_ involve some special feast in his honour, for which he would be eternally grateful) Ulrich dragged him back to their cabin for a little alone time.

And that was when the trouble started.

Ulrich seemed quite keen to give him a birthday shag he wouldn't soon forget, and was quick to manoeuvre Harry over to the bed, where between warm kisses, he stripped Harry of all his garments. When the dominant did not move to remove his own clothes, Harry arched a brow at him, but Ulrich spoke before Harry was able to get a word out.

“Tonight is about you, Harry,” Ulrich purred as he leant in for a gentle kiss, “it's  _your_ birthday, after all.”

“Yeah, but—”

“—no buts,” Ulrich interrupted, and kissed him again. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

“Fine,” Harry replied with a chuckle, and flopped down against the mattress as Ulrich produced a bottle of scented oil that made the entire cabin smell like wildflowers.

Ulrich guided Harry onto his front, and perched lightly on the sub's bare arse as he drizzled the oil onto Harry's back, and began to rub it in. Instead of relaxing him however, the thoughtful, intimate touch made Harry's stomach somersault with guilt.

“God, Harry, you're so tense,” Ulrich remarked as his large, weather-worn hands moved down Harry's back, and he shivered a little. “I should've done this for you _ages_ ago...”

“Sorry...” Harry mumbled as he buried his face in the mattress, and Ulrich chuckled softly.

“Don't be sorry...” he replied, trailing off as his hands slid from Harry's lower back to cup his arse, and Harry moaned softly as Ulrich offered it a firm squeeze.

Harry pressed back into Ulrich's large hands, and he craned his neck to watch as the dominant paused to shed his own clothing. It took less than a minute for him to do so, then he traded the scented oil for the lubricant, and a single finger brushed at Harry's entrance and wiggled itself into his arse, but instead of the pleasant feeling Harry had expected, it twinged painfully. Harry clenched his eyes shut and tried to force himself to relax, an act which Ulrich seemed to buy, as he added a second finger, then after taking a moment to scissor them, replaced them with his cock.

In lieu of the pleasure that was supposed to come from such an act, Harry was thrown when a very different sensation came with the feeling of the dominant breaching his hole.

It  _hurt._

Harry's breath escaped him in a sharp gasp before he could stop it, and Ulrich froze.

“Harry?” he asked uncertainly.

“H-hurts...” he choked out as he clenched his eyes shut, and Ulrich immediately pulled out, and Harry heard the low murmur of a cleaning spell. Harry sat up and buried his face shamefully in his hands. Immediately, he felt a comforting arm wrap around him, and he felt tears prick the corners of his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled miserably, “fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to muck this up for you...”

“Harry,” Ulrich murmured, and shifted to reached for Harry's hands, and he gently pulled them away of from his face. “Hey, it's okay, it happens.”

Harry shook his head, but found his voice to be caught in his throat.

_Was this the moment?_

Harry hadn't quite planned it like this. He didn't _want_  to ruin this for Ulrich, but but despite the current state of... _affairs_ , it seemed inevitable. He finally had to come clean.

“Ulrich,” Harry whispered, his voice suddenly rather hoarse, “I...I...”

The words wouldn't come.

He  _couldn't_ say it—he simply  _couldn't_ bring himself to hurt someone who had done absolutely nothing wrong.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water, while Ulrich merely looked on with a small, sad smile.

“It's all right, Harry,” he said gently as he reached out for Harry's hands, “I know.”

Harry stared.

“Wh-what?”

“I  _know_. You're still in love with Remus, and you've spent the last few weeks trying to figure out how to tell me, right?”

Ulrich spoke with a smile, as though Harry had said nothing more upsetting than he'd lost Ulrich's favourite pair of socks or something. Harry couldn't work out why Ulrich was being so  _calm_ about this, especially when all this had started, he had been  _very_ possessive of his sub.

“How did you figure it out?” Harry asked softly, while he kept his gaze fixed shamefully on his lap.

“It was pretty easy, actually,” he replied, and laughed weakly. Slowly, Harry lifted his miserable gaze to face the dominant, and he found Ulrich to be smiling at him sadly. “You and Remus...you two come  _alive_  when you're around each other. Even when you're fighting, there's a passion there that never goes away. I knew from pretty early on that I never stood a chance. You never seemed unhappy with me, but you were always merely...content.” Ulrich broke off his narrative when his voice got distinctively croaky, and Harry's hands tensed in his.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Ulrich,” Harry said weakly, “I care about you, I'm so sorry, I just...I...”

“You can't love me,” Ulrich finished for him, and Harry nodded as both men seemed to break in the same instant. Harry lurched forward, just as Ulrich moved to gather him into his arms, and they held onto each other tightly, almost desperately.

“I'm sorry...I'm so,  _so_  sorry, Ulrich...” Harry whispered against his neck, and Ulrich tightened his hold on him.

“Shh, shh, I know...it's all right...”

“It's  _not_  all right,” Harry replied as his voice cracked, “I'm so...I just...I hate that I've hurt you, I'm sor—”

His apology was cut off by a feverish kiss, one which Harry returned as he clutched desperately to Ulrich and whispered apology after apology between kisses, while Ulrich attempted to console him. Harry knew without the shadow of a doubt that he could not love Ulrich, but it didn't stop their impending separation from being incredibly painful.

Letting him go, or rather, Ulrich knowing instinctively that he was going to be let go, hurt more than Harry could have foreseen.

When Harry had calmed down a little, he pulled back to look up at Ulrich, his head cocked to the side as he studied him sadly.

“Why?” he asked at last, and Ulrich blinked at the question.

“Why what?”

“Why even pursue me if you knew that it was doomed to fail?” Harry asked, his voice still a little hoarse and croaky from the swell of emotion that seemed to be lodged in his throat. “What's the point of setting yourself up for heartbreak like that?”

“Initially, I had no idea if that would be the case,” Ulrich explained while both men eased down on the bed and lay side by side as they talked. “You were angry, hurt, a mess from what had happened between you and Remus. I was very angry at him for hurting you, but it was hard, because I also understood—to an extent, at least—why he did it. He was misguided, but not evil for what he had done. But, I have been interested in you since that first time I saw you, escorting Alpha back to us. And from that first moment, I knew that I wanted you.”

“I remember,” Harry cut in, “you called me a  _Phelan_.”

“The little wolf,” Ulrich confirmed with a small nod, and Harry smiled.

“I've loved you for a long time, and at that first moon, I claimed you. Without our human consciences in the way, there wasn't anything to stop us,” the dominant continued, his gaze averted from Harry with a faraway look in his eyes. “But as time went on...I realized that it wouldn't last. You loved Remus, and you wanted him—even when you said that you didn't. I just knew that he would always be the one who owns your heart. When I realized that, I decided that I would hold on to you for as long as you would let me, and let you go when the time was right.”

Harry wasn't certain when he'd started crying, but as Ulrich finished speaking, he was distinctly aware of tear tracks staining his cheeks. He lurched forward and kissed Ulrich hard, and the dominant's arms tensed around him. Harry reached up to wipe away Ulrich's own tears as they kissed, and both men trembled with anguish.

“You're too good,” Harry murmured weakly, “you...I never deserved you.”

“Maybe I just have low standards,” Ulrich teased in the same tone of voice, and Harry responded with a faint smile. The dominant leant in and kissed Harry again, and in the kiss, Harry could feel only one emotion— _Goodbye_.

“Stay in here tonight, please,” Ulrich whispered, his arms still tense around Harry, “just...let me have this one last night.”

Harry kissed him again, and that seemed to be all the answer that Ulrich needed.

Slowly, they settled in for the night; entangled in a lover's embrace for the very last time.


	25. Approach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update is this Friday, September 15th. After that, we're back to our regularly scheduled Tuesday/Thursday update schedule.

Chapter Twenty-Five – Approach

 

Despite Harry's intent of spending one last night with Ulrich, that quickly evolved into a number of consecutive nights, and Harry could not decide how he felt about this, or what to do about it. At first, it had seemed like a good idea.

“ _Stay in my cabin,”_ Ulrich had offered, “ _if my scent is on you, it will keep the other dominants at bay while you decide what you want to do.”_

At the time, it had seemed like an endearing, self-sacrificing offer. Harry agreed, given that he wasn't keen to be viewed as _on the market_ again, and he stayed in Ulrich's cabin. During the day, they had gone back to a casual, if slightly awkward friendship, but at night, Ulrich held him close as though nothing had changed.

It left Harry feeling terribly guilty, and more than a little confused.

 

“I don't know what to tell you,” Tavish said over lunch a week later, when Ulrich was elsewhere. “He's probably looking for excuses to not let you go. If you wanted to break it off with him, it should be a clean break, Harry, not this...lingering...clinging... _thing_ that you two are doing. It'll just make things harder if you get back with...y'know, _him_.”

“At first, I thought he was doing me a favour,” Harry muttered between bites of spit-roasted meat as he glared at his knees, “but now...I dunno. I'm not keen on being hounded by single doms again, but I don't know if I should keep this up, either.”

“Ulrich probably isn't doing it to be an arse, he just really cares about you, and doesn't want to let you go,” Tavish replied, “I know if I was replaced by another sub, I'd be pretty devastated...”

Tavish's gaze strayed over to Greyback, and Harry mirrored him. He spotted the alpha in deep conversation with one of the dominants in the regular hunting party. Harry smiled a little as he watched his fellow sub; it was quite clear how much Tavish loved him, even though he never said it out loud. Quickly, Tavish turned away from his mate and back to Harry, and returned to their conversation.

“Have you come to a decision about...?” Tavish trailed off, eyebrows raised in an obvious hint, and he jerked his head none-too-subtly in the direction of the territory's Apparition Point.

“Aside from working out that I miss him and want him back, no,” Harry replied in a tone just above a mumble, and he set down his empty bowl. “I want to go see him, but at the same time...what if he rejects me?”

“Unlikely, considering how much time he put into trying to win you back,” Tavish pointed out, and Harry chuckled softly. “But if you're planning to go find him, maybe wash your clothes first—and move back into the Sub House. You reek of Ulrich, and he might think you're two-timing him or something.”

“Is that really all that likely?” Harry asked as he cocked a brow at his friend, and Tavish snorted loudly.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, “they're so bloody sensitive, common sense doesn't come into play all that much where their mates are concerned.”

“Brilliant,” Harry muttered as he bowed forward to cradle his chin in his hands, while he braced his elbows against the top of his knees. He stared into the fire sullenly, and his stomach gurgled unpleasantly with nervousness.

 

Harry decided to take Tavish's advice and go to the Sub House for the night.

Harry had slunk away from dinner early and made his way to Ulrich's cabin to gather up his belongings quietly—but this didn't go _quite_ as smoothly as planned.

His arms full of clothes, his toothbrush, and _Quidditch Through the Ages,_ he turned around to head out, and he immediately spotted Ulrich leaning in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Er, hi,” Harry said awkwardly, and stepped from foot to foot nervously as he gazed at Ulrich, but the dominant's expression didn't change.

“So...this is it?” he asked hollowly as he looked away from Harry. His expression seemed to border between anger and sadness, though Harry genuinely could not tell which was the stronger emotion at that moment.

“Er, yeah,” Harry replied and bit his lip. “I...I think it might be for the best.”

Ulrich heaved a heavy sigh and buried his face in his hands. Harry watched and waited, and after close to a full minute of silence, he spoke again.

“I wish I was more selfish,” Ulrich mumbled, “I wish I didn't _care_ so damn much about your feelings, or your happiness...I wish...but I can't. I can't do it. I can't make you stay with me, knowing you're just settling.”

Harry set down the things he'd been holding, crossed over to Ulrich, and pulled him into a tight hug. He held onto Harry like his life depended on it, and Harry rubbed his back as Ulrich shuddered with unshed tears.

“You're a good man, Ulrich,” Harry said softly, “one of the kindest, bravest, most honest...you'd be just as miserable if I stayed with you, knowing that I can't—that I—we can't do that to each other, it's not fair.”

“I know, really I do,” Ulrich replied as he straightened up, and Harry felt his stomach flip-flop with alarm when he saw how red Ulrich's eyes were. “It's been a long time since I've felt like this, and I wish I didn't have to let you go.”

Harry offered him a small, sad sort of smile as he reached up to cradle the dominant's cheek. He immediately leant into the touch, and Harry got on his toes to kiss him lightly.

“You'll find that special someone,” Harry said, “I know that you will. You're a wonderful man, I've never met anyone quite like you, we just...well, you know.” Ulrich nodded a little, but despite the fact that he seemed to understand what Harry was saying, his arms tensed around him, and he did not let him go.

“I thought I found that person in you.”

Harry worried his bottom lip as he gazed up at the dominant, unsure what to say in response to that. He didn't want to come off as insensitive, but he'd rather thought Ulrich was handling their separation better than this—clearly, he had been mistaken.

As delicately as he could, Harry wormed his way out of Ulrich's embrace, and took his hands. The move didn't make Ulrich look any _more_ upset, but it didn't exactly cheer him, either.

“Ulrich, I care for you, I always will. You're...in a way, my saviour. I was a wreck when I got here, and being with you...it helped to put me back together again. But...” he paused, and his gaze dropped to his feet. “I—I can't be with someone I can't love. It's not fair to either of us. I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have, you don't deserve it.”

Ulrich bowed his head, and didn't answer as he dropped his hands to his sides and stepped out of the way of the door. Harry moved back and gathered up his things, then paused before Ulrich, and offered him one last soft, sweet kiss.

“Well...goodbye,” Harry said softly, and smiled weakly when Ulrich offered him a small nod before he slipped out the door for the very last time.

 

When Harry finally made it to the Sub House, it felt as though he had been hit with about a hundred Jelly Legs Jinxes. He flopped down onto his bed with a small groan, and Tavish looked up from his novel.

“How'd it go?”

Harry grunted.

“That bad, eh?”

“I think pulling out my own toenails with pliers would've been more fun...” Harry mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling of the House.

“Well, it had to be done, or you two would've been miserable.”

“I know,” Harry replied as he sat up with a small groan and gazed over at his friend. “I just hate that I hurt him. He didn't deserve it.”

“No, he didn't,” Tavish agreed, “and if you had drawn it out any longer, I'd toy with the idea of telling him myself, _but_ it's out there now, and now you're free to go after your _one true love_.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty stupid,” Harry replied, and Tavish threw a pillow at him.

“Go to bed, you prat, and then go running after the love of your life tomorrow.”

 

Harry had listened to Tavish's advice, but as he lay on the bed, he tossed and turned while he stared up at the ceiling miserably. He'd grown so used to falling asleep entangled in a warm body that going to sleep alone was proving to be more than a little difficult. He hugged his pillow to his chest, and immediately his thoughts turned to Remus.

Unlike with Ulrich, where thoughts of the man had been warm and fuzzy—comfortable, like a security blanket—with Remus it was always much more intense and all-encompassing. The thought of Remus made Harry burn with need, it made him feel like his whole body had been set on fire, and yet at the same time, he felt a perfect sense of peace and safety.

Ironic, considering their recent history.

Outside, Harry heard a distant roll of thunder, and one of Jade's quadruplets on the other side of the space began to fuss. Within thirty seconds, Harry heard their mother murmuring softly and cooing in an effort to soothe them, but the other three did not react as the thunder came closer, and with it, the loud rush of heavy rain hit the roof of the House.

Harry sighed softly, and shut his eyes. Slowly he was lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain, his pillow still clutched tightly against his chest as his dreams turned to a certain werewolf in an old, tatty, brown cardigan.

In sleep, Harry smiled.

 

~*~

 

After their discussion the night before, Ulrich seemed to take Harry's moving back into the Sub House in stride, but Harry did not miss the looks of longing he cast Harry's way every time they were within sight of each other. It made Harry feel horribly guilty, but he didn't dare approach Ulrich to discuss it. He didn't want to rekindle their relationship out of guilt, especially when he was still stuck on how to approach Remus without feeling like he was barging in on the man's life in any way.

In the end, Harry decided to approach Remus as simply as possible, and he drafted a short letter. The small square of parchment carried only four words:

 

_Can I see you?_

 

For some strange reason, signing his name felt out of place to Harry, and he sent off the letter with the territory's owl, his heart in his throat.

Harry was uncertain what to expect; half of him assumed that the owl would be turned away, while the rest of him prayed that Remus would actually be willing to talk.

The owl returned a few days later with a different letter clutched in his beak.

 

 

_You never need permission to see me, Harry._

_I am at my old safe house, the one you visited when the bond initially happened. Come any evening you like._

 

_Remus_

 

Harry's heart swelled in his chest, and he beamed at the letter. Quickly, he quilled a response.

 

_Today?_

 

Harry sent the owl back, and by early afternoon it returned, but flew off quickly, as though keen for a rest from so many frequent journeys.

 

_I will be home at dusk. I look forward to seeing you._

 

_Remus_

 

The short letter was written hastily; the parchment was blotted with droplets of black ink and a fingermark near the bottom of the page. The handwriting was less neat than usual, as though Remus's hand had been shaking as he wrote it.

The formality of the tone made Harry more than a little nervous, however. He spoke similarly to how he had when Harry had been his student, and Harry was more unnerved by that than he was willing to admit. He could all but feel the chilling distance between them now, where once there had only been warmth.

Harry prayed that he wasn't too late.

 

~*~

 

The day took far longer to pass by than Harry would have liked, and he made sure to pull Greyback aside and inform him of his intent to leave the territory for the evening. He grunted a response, but did not bother with a proper answer, though Harry suspected that that was due to his split with Ulrich. The two were, after all, very close, and Harry assumed that he must have felt some level of anger at Harry for breaking it off with the beta.

“Fine,” he had grunted, “I'll inform the sentries so they don't accidentally kill you if you come back some time after dark.”

The response wasn't exactly reassuring, but at least he wasn't being barred from leaving, for which Harry was grateful. He mumbled a quick thank-you, then made his way over to Tavish to inform him of his plans, who shared his cautious optimism over his impending meeting with Remus.

“It's a good sign, isn't it?” Tavish asked uncertainly, “I mean, it means he hasn't moved on, right?”

“I suppose,” Harry replied as he gazed down at the responses from Remus that he had held on to all day. “I just don't like how formal this one sounds,” he lifted the second note and waved it in front of his companion significantly. “Why does he make it sound like some sort of business transaction or something?”

“It's probably a precaution,” Tavish answered with a small shrug, “he probably, like you, doesn't know what to expect, so he's bracing himself if you say you don't want him back or something. That'd be my guess.”

“Maybe...” Harry trailed off as he lifted a hand to rake it through his hair, but he was unable to take his eyes off the notes. “I just hate this waiting, it's making me so stressed. I want to see him _now_.”

“Okay, _now_ you sound like a five-year-old waiting for pudding,” Tavish replied with a small laugh, “ _but, Mummy, I don't_ want _to eat my vegetables! I want biscuits!_ ”

“I do _not_ sound like that!” Harry protested, his voice jumping up a few octaves in his anger.

“Oh yes, you do,” Tavish shot back with another laugh at Harry's reaction.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do _not_.”

“Okay, when _I'm_ marvelling at the immaturity? Be scared.”

A third voice interrupted their halfhearted bickering, and they turned to see Gina standing before them, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she gazed at them, her face a little pink as though she was trying to keep from laughing.

“Hey, Gina,” Harry said with a small smile. “Something on your mind?”

“Er, yeah, actually,” she replied, and relaxed a little when Harry did not appear irritated that she had interrupted their discussion. “Me and the others were talking, and we wanted to start a Duelling Club. One of the older kids said you were in one in school, so I said I'd ask you if you could help us start one.”

Immediately, Harry was mentally transported back to his second year.

 

“ _Scared, Potter?”_

“ _You wish.”_

 

“My only experience with that particular Duelling Club was a bit of a disaster, to tell the truth,” Harry replied with a small laugh, “How many of you were talking about it?”

“About half,” she replied, her tone now wavering between hope and disappointment while she gazed up at Harry with wide, pleading eyes, “so maybe about fifteen or twenty?”

“All right, well, I'll think about it, yeah?”

“Great,” Gina said while she beamed at him, “thanks, Harry.”

Without another word she darted back over to her friends. As Gina relayed what Harry had said to them, they all seemed thrilled—despite the fact that Harry hadn't actually said _yes_ yet.

“Never a dull moment, eh, Harry?” Tavish said, and Harry laughed.

“You're telling me.”

 

Harry passed the rest of the day peacefully enough, though half his time was spent shooing away his persistent students, all of whom were 'casually' bringing up their Duelling Club idea to him at every opportunity.

He wasn't firmly against it—for the kids with dominant blood, it certainly would be an asset to the pack when they were older, but Harry was already so swamped with keeping on top of their regular lessons, he had no idea how he'd fit in a Duelling Club in on top of all that.

If nothing else, his pesky students had helped to keep him busy, and time went by much more quickly. Soon, he was getting ready to go and meet with Remus.

“Nervous?” Tavish asked as he walked with Harry to the edge of the territory, while Harry fumbled with the cuffs of his jumper. He glanced up to his friend and almost laughed—he was certain that it was painfully obvious just how nervous he was.

“A bit, yeah,” Harry replied, and Tavish smirked a little.

“Keep your bollocks metre handy,” Tavish said simply, but firmly. “If he starts responding to you in a bad way, get out of there. Don't get sucked in again.”

“I hope that won't be the case,” Harry muttered as they slowed to a stop at the Apparition Point, “as stupid as it might sound, I really think he's changed.” He paused, and turned to Tavish again. “Do I sound mental for saying that?”

To his question, Tavish did not immediately respond. He cradled his chin with his thumb and forefinger, and stared off into space for a few moments before he finally answered.

“I think...I think you two have a complicated relationship that got mucked up by a bad mix of werewolf and wizard magic,” Tavish said, “I don't think he's a bad person, he just...went about things the wrong way.”

“That's what everyone's been saying,” Harry replied while he eyed the Apparition Point uncertainly. _Could he really do this?_ “I'm so confused. I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore.”

“Maybe it's not right _or_ wrong,” Tavish said simply, “it just... _is_. One thing I do think is that you love Remus, and he loves you. It's pretty obvious how much you two care for each other, it's just that you're both pants at that whole _communication_ thing.”

Harry barked a laugh and Tavish grinned, then pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Good luck, Harry,” he said, and Harry smiled as he hugged his friend back. He didn't verbally respond, but it seemed as though Tavish understood the sentiment anyway as Harry untangled himself from the other sub.

Tavish stepped back, smiling, and Harry felt his friend's eyes on him as he Disapparated with a sharp _crack_.

 

~*~

 

Harry reappeared outside a section of dense forest, about twenty feet from a quaint little wooden cottage that he recognized immediately. The solitary window next to the door was glowing with warm firelight, and a thin stream of smoke was trailing from the chimney.

Even if Harry hadn't recognized the cottage, Harry knew that he was in the right place. The whole area seemed to carry Remus's scent, and Harry felt as though his skin was humming from being so close to him.

At the same time, Harry could smell a positively mouth-watering aroma coming from the little cottage, which told Harry that Remus was inside preparing dinner. The scent carried Harry back to better times, happier times, and above all, it gave him hope that this wasn't a fruitless endeavour, after all.

Harry licked his lips out of nervous habit, and after he took a small breath to brace himself for whatever was to come, he stepped towards the little cottage.

When he was within five feet of the simple wooden door, it swung open before he was even close enough to knock.

Harry's breath caught.

Remus stood there, eyes a little wide, and the look that presided there mirrored his own feelings exactly—a cross of nervousness and a hopeful expression in that amber gaze he'd come to love so dearly. Remus's matching feelings lifted Harry's spirits, and he felt more confident that this might work, after all.

“Er, hi,” Harry said with a small smile, and Remus all but beamed at him.

“Come in, Harry,” he said, a faint tremor in his own voice, and he stepped aside to admit him.

Harry closed the distance between himself and the threshold, and stepped inside. He was close enough to Remus that he could feel the dominant's body heat, and it took a great deal of effort to keep still and _not_ jump on the older man immediately.

The cottage, meanwhile, was a little different than Harry remembered. There was a stale and stuffy odour on the air, and despite Remus's obvious efforts to tidy the place up, in his time away from it, it had clearly gone to seed, and it was still dusty and cobwebby. It was also much more bare than Harry remembered it—all of Remus's belongings, from his books to his framed photographs and knickknacks were all missing, and the lack of personalization in the small space made it feel as drab and depressing as Grimmauld Place used to be.

On Remus's tiny scrubbed table in the open-concept kitchen were two place settings with steaming bowls of stew and a loaf of crusty bread. Despite the circumstances, the sight made Harry smile, and he had the distinct feeling as though, after months away, he had finally come home.

“Erm, thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Harry said awkwardly as he refocused his attention on Remus, who continued to smile at Harry warmly.

“My home is always open to you, Harry, I'm sure you know that,” Remus replied as he shut the door behind him, and led him towards the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Harry answered, though as he said it, his stomach twisted nervously as Remus circled him and side-by-side they headed to the table. It felt so strangely familiar and completely alien all at once, and Harry did not fail to notice how Remus was careful to keep his distance from him, which hurt more than Harry liked to admit.

Harry and Remus both sat at the table, and the older man avoided Harry's eye as he set about slicing the bread. Harry felt mildly sick as he looked on; he could not recall the last time he'd seen the older man so nervous.

“So, you said in your letter that you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted, though it escaped him like a question as he passed the bread board to Harry, and he accepted a couple slices. “What about?”

Harry pressed his lips together, uncertain whether he was more amused or annoyed by the question—he'd thought it was fairly obvious _why_ he was there.

“Well, er, I...” Harry trailed off when he felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. Remus raised his eyebrows at him, but did not interject, and merely gazed at Harry with a neutral expression of curiosity. The gentle, placid reaction bothered Harry a little, and he found that he had no idea how to say what he wanted to say.

“Erm, after...after you left, and after everything with Alpha's trial...I...er, I broke it off with Ulrich.”

Remus's eyes widened in shock, though Harry noted that there was also a lack of surprise there, too. Harry supposed that since he'd spent so much time in the Sub House lately, the scent of the other dominant on him would not be as strong.

“Things not work out?” Remus asked mildly, and began to butter his bread, though even at a distance Harry could see that his hands were shaking slightly.

“Something like that,” Harry muttered with a humourless smile, “er...sort of hard to keep a relationship going when...when you're in love with someone else.”

Remus's butter knife hit the tabletop with a loud clatter, his eyes widened a little as Harry looked at him significantly. Harry could hear that Remus had stopped breathing, and his shock seemed to be coming off of him in waves.

“Harry?” he prompted weakly, as though whatever he had been expecting when Harry dropped by, this wasn't it.

“I can't get you off my mind, Remus,” Harry said, and sat on his hands as he spoke. He was tempted to just throw caution into the wind and just jump into Remus's arms, but something told him that that might not be the best course of action, if the older man's nervous, deer-in-headlights expression was anything to go by. “Ever since you left...I can't think about anything else, or _anyone_ else. It's just...you.”

Harry pulled out his hands from under him, and he reached across the table for Remus. When he did so, Remus did something that Harry did not expect.

He pulled away.

“Oh, Harry,” Remus said softly, his voice laced with anguish, “no. We can't go down that road again.”

Harry froze, certain that he'd misheard him.

“Wh-what?”

“Please don't mistake me,” Remus said in a rush, “I care for you—I _do_ love you, more than anything. I believe that I always will, but when I am with you...I don't want to risk hurting you again. There is too much at stake—to much risk. It might be better for us to remain friends, and nothing more.”

“If you don't want to hurt me, what do you think you're doing now, then?” Harry asked, his voice cracking, and Remus winced as though he'd been struck. “Remus, _please_ , I _need_ you.”

The sight of Remus warped as the older man shook his head, his gaze fixed firmly upon his knees. Harry blinked, and his tears streaked his cheeks. Still, Remus kept his eyes down.

“I'm so sorry, Harry, but I am too damaged to risk a relationship with anyone—in particular someone I care so deeply about,” Remus said gently, his voice laced with anguish as he spoke, and when he finally looked back up, he looked as distraught as Harry felt. “You deserve someone who can love you and be what you need...not this broken shell. Go back to Ulrich, Harry.”

 


	26. Meddlers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: After today we're back to our regularly scheduled update days, so next update will be Tuesday, September 19th.

Chapter Twenty-Six – Meddlers

 

Harry had quite forgotten how different city life was compared to life in the countryside, and when he woke the day after Remus's rejection to the weak sunlight of late summer pouring in the window of his bedroom in Grimmauld Place, he felt no more cheered by the weather than he had when he'd initially stumbled in yesterday.

As he lay in bed, the musty, unused, and depressing scent of the house surrounding him, he could not help but reflect on how different he felt now compared to the lead-up to his turning.

At that time, he had been scared and weakened by all that had happened. Here, he was furious and hurt by Remus's rejection over something that, in Harry's estimation, was was unfounded and totally illogical.

Harry had been quite certain that his friends would freak out if he suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth, Harry had the forethought to send Hermione a quick note, _things went bad with Remus, need to be alone._ Foolishly, Harry had assumed that that would be enough for him to be left alone for a few days to think things through.

Instead, he was given a mere twenty-four hours before he smelt (and heard) a female dominant werewolf and a human male breaking into the house. The sounds were accompanied shortly thereafter by the sneering voice of someone he _really_ didn't want to see right now.

“Granger, why in the seven hells did you call _me_? I've no practical experience in talking werewolves out of _trees_.”

“No, but you do have a marvellous talent of putting things in perspective,” Hermione replied patiently, “which is one thing I think Harry needs right now, instead of any one of us mollycoddling him.”

Harry ground his teeth as he listened apprehensively to the sound of his friend and former rival tramping up the stairs, but still managed to jump in surprise when Malfoy burst into the master bedroom in a swirl of his expensive robes, and Harry glared at him.

“Ever heard of knocking, Malfoy?”

“If I'd knocked, you would have told me to piss off.”

“Piss off.”

“Too late!” he cried as he strode forward, and conjured (of all things) a teddy bear with the flick of his wand, before he fell unceremoniously onto the bed in front of Harry, who was still glaring at him as he held out the bear to the werewolf. “Now, tell me where the bad man touched you.”

“You wanna know where he touched me, Malfoy?” Harry sneered as he pushed the bear away and jumped off the bed and began to pace, “in the _gut_. Because I finally— _finally_ work things out, and I go to him and what does he do? He stomps on my goddamn heart. You'd think I'd know better by now with _him_ but no, I never fucking learn, it's what I get for—”

“Are you _quite_ finished?” Malfoy interrupted, and Harry glared at him. “Are you even remotely surprised that Lupin rejected you? Seriously? Are you _that_ thick?”

“Of course I'm bloody well surprised, Malfoy,” Harry sniped back, “he spent all that time trying to win _me_ back, then he left, and why—”

“—and what did he _do_ after he left?” Malfoy asked, enunciating each word as though he was speaking to a child. “He went to a Mind Healer, he distanced himself from _everyone._ He's _afraid_ of himself and what he might do if he goes unchecked. When he was with you, he was happy as a Niffler in a Gringotts vault, but he was dangerously possessive. _Of course_ he'd fear going back together with someone he's so petrified of hurting. Perspective enough for you, Granger?” Malfoy asked as he turned towards Hermione, who was standing in the door frame with her arms crossed. She scowled at him.

“Yes, thank you, Draco,” she said, though she continued to frown at him. Without another word, he shouldered past the dominant and left, grumbling continually about being dragged into Harry's life problems. Harry flopped back down onto the bed and frowned at his empty doorway, and neither he nor Hermione spoke until they heard the distant sound of his front door slamming.

“I don't care if he's afraid of hurting me again,” Harry grumbled as he picked at the frayed edge of the blanket he lay on, “he's...he's...God, I just _need_ him in my life, and then he goes and does this... _fuck_...” Harry broke off abruptly as his throat began to tighten, and glanced up when he felt a gentle weight settle at the end of the bed.

Hermione was watching him with a sad sort of smile. Her eyes, a warm brown that he had become so familiar with over the years, were now ringed with gold, a small tell of her recent Lycanthropy. She still radiated the strength of a dominant, and even when she was trying to comfort him, he could feel her power and strength. Hermione reached for him, and closed both her hands over his right one, and offered it a small squeeze.

“He never wants to hurt you ever again, Harry,” she said gently, “he wants to do right by you, and he doesn't want his instincts or own needs to cloud his judgment. Be proud of him, that's a huge advance from how things were even a few months ago.”

“How can I be proud that he's rejected me?” Harry asked feebly, directing his question to his knees. “I feel lost, Hermione...You've got Ron, and Ulrich and I didn't work, and now I'm on my own again...”

“You're not on your own, Harry,” Hermione interrupted gently, but firmly. “You haven't been alone for a very long time. I _know_ that Ulrich will still be your friend after all of this is settled. And you have me, and Ron, and Ginny, and Tavish, and the rest of the pack. You're far from _alone_.”

“But what am I supposed to do about...?”

“Talk to him again,” Hermione suggested, cutting in again before Harry was able to finish, and he bit the inside of his cheek to swallow his annoyance. It seemed as though it had somehow become _Interrupt Harry Day,_ and that was only adding to his long list of frustrations. “Talk to him, maybe discuss things like adults. I could come and mediate if you like, or you two could go see his Mind Healer, a sort of...I dunno, marriage counselling...thing.”

“What's the point?” Harry asked miserably, “he's already rejected me. What will being a pest accomplish?”

“What, you'd rather wallow in your misery and not come up with some sort of solution?”

“Yes.”

“Fine then,” Hermione snapped as she stood up and glared at him, “be a child about it. I'll be in later to make sure you haven't starved to death because you were too busy sulking to remember to eat.”

Without waiting for a response, Hermione turned on her heel and stalked out.

 

~*~

 

Harry was once more left in peace, but after a few days he was unable to deal with the continued solitude, and returned to the territory. It felt good to be back, albeit terribly lonely. He saw to his duties, he hung around alternately with Tavish and Jade (and by extension her pups) but despite his best efforts, he still felt terribly hollow inside—even with half the subs (and even a few dominants) cheerfully offering to use Remus as a punch-bag the next time they saw him.

In the midst of his new, monotonous existence, Harry heard from Hermione much sooner than he had anticipated. Instead of seeing her at the next moon like he had anticipated, he received an owl from her barely a week after he'd returned to the territory.

 

_Harry,_ (she wrote)

_I feel just awful about our last argument, and I was hoping to make up to you with a dinner? Nothing fancy, just you, me, and Ron—he'll be cooking, I promise._

_Let me know._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

 

“Are you gonna go?” Tavish asked the moment Harry had reached the bottom of the letter, and Harry found himself wholly unsurprised that his friend had been none-too-subtly reading over his shoulder.

“I suppose, no reason not to,” Harry replied with a small shrug as he tugged out a blank sheet of parchment and quickly drafted a response, agreeing to come. “But I can't help but feel like she might be...up to something.”

“Are you sure you're not reading too much into it?” Tavish asked as he arched a brow at him, and Harry laughed.

“When it's Hermione, it's best to tread cautiously,” Harry replied, “at least half the time she's got some ulterior motive planned.”

“You lot are the most paranoid bastards I've ever met, I swear,” Tavish replied with a laugh, and shook his head. “Whatever, I hope you enjoy your roasted Weasley or whatever.”

“Roasted Weasley?”

“Well, she _did_ say that Ron's cooking...”

Harry stared, and Tavish grinned at him.

“You are never ever allowed to make fun of my bad jokes _ever_ again.”

At this, Tavish threw his head back and laughed.

 

~*~

 

It was less than a week later that Harry found himself heading into Hogsmeade for the first time in what felt like years.

It was a Friday, and though it wasn't yet the week-end, the village's high street was still dotted with older students. Harry had Apparated to just outside Ron and Hermione's flat, and his nose was immediately assaulted by a familiar scent.

_Hermione's still talking with Remus,_ Harry reminded himself, _no way he'd be here, not after everything..._

He shook his head, and tramped up to the door, where he knocked lightly.

“ _It's open!_ ”

The muffled voice of his best mate filtered through the wood, and Harry let himself in. Like outside, he could smell the distinctive scent of his former partner around the space, but he tried to not let it get to him as he focused on the smell of Ron's cooking, which was almost as good as his mother's was. Harry could smell potatoes, fresh bread, and roasting meat, and immediately he felt his mouth begin to water.

“Hey, mate,” Ron greeted, but did not move from his place at the cooker while he basted the roast by hand, rather than use his wand for the task. “All right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Harry replied as he shrugged out of his cloak and hung it up, then kicked off his boots. “You?”

“Let's just say werewolf blood plus pregnancy hormones have made things... _interesting_ around here.”

“I don't doubt it,” Harry said with a small snort, and sat down at the breakfast bar to watch Ron cook. “Where's Hermione, anyway?”

“Toilet,” Ron replied with a small grimace, “for the sixth time today. They call it morning sickness, but it seems more like all-the-time sickness, if you ask me.”

“Sounds like fun,” Harry observed, and Ron snorted.

“Can't remember when I've had _more_ fun, mate, but it'll be worth it in the end, I think.”

“Unless my future godchild ends up hating you or something,” Harry said with a grin, and Ron groaned.

“Don't jinx it, Harry. I'm nervous enough about being a dad as it is...”

Distantly, Harry heard a toilet flush, and a moment later Hermione sauntered into the kitchen, her complexion slightly green, but otherwise she looked normal.

“Harry!” she chirped happily and hurried over to offer him a hug. “It's good to see you! Before we settle down, do you think you could help me with something?”

When she paused for his answer, she exchanged a significant look with Ron, and Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“What d'you want help with?”

“Well, the thing is, our potions pantry door is jammed, and Ron and I can't get it open, and I was wondering if you'd give it a try? I'd normally use a charm, but some of the ingredients are a little delicate, and I'd rather not possibly ruin them, you see.”

She said all of this very fast, and the high lilt in her voice gave Harry the impression that she wasn't telling him the whole truth. At the same time, he doubted that something as innocuous as a jammed pantry door was anything dark or dangerous, and he saw no reason to decline the simple request.

“All right, sure,” he replied, and Hermione's entire demeanour brightened at once.

“Great, thanks, Harry,” she said brightly as she turned and motioned with her hand, “it's this way.”

Harry got up and followed her out of the kitchen, through the sitting room, and down the hall that led to the bedrooms. Squished between the toilet and the guest room was the pantry that Hermione had mentioned, and the odd angle in which the door sat crammed in its frame was certainly indicative of a jam.

Rotating his shoulders, Harry stepped for the door, and closed his hand over the handle. To his great surprise, it swung open without any resistance whatsoever, and he turned to Hermione, lips parted in question as he let go of the brass knob, only to yelp as a pair of hands shoved him hard, and he stumbled into the pantry, and the door slammed shut behind him.

Most strangely, when Harry stumbled into the small, enclosed space, he did not careen into a shelf of potions ingredients.

Instead, he hit something soft, something warm, and something by and large _human_ -shaped.

Arms lifted to catch him in an instinctive move, and they both froze as they made contact with one another. The scent of the person—the _man—_ was one that Harry knew very well, and he squinted up at the dark silhouette, uncertain whether or not he dared believe it.

“Remus?”

“Harry?”

“They got you too, eh?”

Remus chuckled at Harry's words, and his arms, still wrapped around him, tensed as though he wanted to let him go, but couldn't find the strength to do so.

The memory of their _last_ encounter still burned in Harry however, and he stepped back. Remus immediately let him go. The pantry was just large enough for them to both stand in it with roughly a foot of space between them, and for the moment, Harry was taking all the space he could get.

“All right, Hermione,” Harry called out, turning his head a little, “We got the joke, now let us out.”

Silence.

“Hermione?”

No answer.

“Hermione,” Remus called, “this isn't funny. We'll talk if that's what you're hinting at, but this isn't the right way to go about it, especially considering what transpired the _last_ time you had Harry here.”

Again, there was no response, and Harry rolled his shoulders nervously. He didn't like enclosed spaces at the best of times, but at least the presence of someone else made him feel marginally calmer, especially when it was someone who seemed to understand why Hermione's plan was so phenomenally stupid.

“I suppose she wants us to _talk_ ,” Harry said sourly, and he crossed his arms as he glared at Remus, though he wasn't certain that the man could see his expression in the dark.

“So it would seem,” Remus replied stiffly. “Harry, I'm sorry, when she had invited me, I had no idea she'd invited you as well or would do...well, _this_.”

“It seems like Hermione revels in locking me in confined spaces whenever I come round,” Harry remarked dryly, and Remus chuckled weakly.

“She always has your best interests at heart, even if her methods are a little...misguided.”

“That's very kind, Remus, but I believe the word you're looking for is _mental_.”

Remus chuckled again, and Harry watched his vague silhouette move, and suddenly the torch on the wall illuminated the small space.

He did not look happy. On the contrary, Remus looked close to petrified.

Something about the look broke something in Harry's mind, cleanly, like a piece of dry wood snapping in half, and he narrowed his eyes at the older man.

“You rejected me, Remus,” Harry said, his voice cold and calm. Remus dropped his gaze.

“I know.”

“I laid myself bare, and you all but _spat in my face.”_ Harry snarled the words, and Remus flinched as though Harry had hit him.

“I know that, Harry.”

“Do you, really?” Harry asked, his voice cracking a little, “I love you, you idiot. I love every single bloody part of you. I love your strength, I love your intelligence, I love your bravery...and I love the other parts, the broken parts; the parts you don't want me to see. I love everything that you _are_. I _know_ that you love me, too, why would you do this to me—to _us_?”

“It's too risky, Harry,” Remus protested, his tone weak and pleading, “I don't want to hurt you—”

“—do you know what's hurting me, Remus?” Harry demanded as he interrupted him, “being _apart_ from you. It's killing me not seeing you. I want you in my life, I don't _care_ if you're the pinnacle of mental health or a total wreck—I'll take you any way I can have you. I _love_ you.”

“Oh, Harry, I know,” Remus replied with a heavy sigh, his body sagging forward in defeat. “Things with you...they're wonderful, but they're also terrifying. I don't want to hurt you again. I've done more than enough damage to last a lifetime— _two_ lifetimes.”

“I'm scared too, I hope you realize. The last thing I want is a repeat of all that's happened, but at the same time...” he trailed off, and rushed forward to close the distance between them. Remus tensed, but Harry ignored it as he linked his hands together at the small of Remus's back and buried his face in his chest. Harry inhaled, revelling in the scent of _Remus_ , and how in that moment he felt well and truly where he _ought_ to be.

“At the same time...?” Remus prompted weakly, his voice carrying the hint that he was almost afraid to know the answer. He seemed to be trembling slightly, but when his arms lifted and encircled Harry's waist in a mirror embrace to how Harry held onto Remus, Harry felt the dominant's entire body go still.

“Things never felt quite... _right_ with Ulrich,” Harry replied, and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing when he felt Remus relax. Once he was certain that his voice wouldn't escape him with a giggle, he continued. “I mean, he was never unkind to me, he was...he was perfect. He's what anyone could want, but...he wasn't you.”

“He wasn't...me?” Remus repeated. Harry did not miss the edge of surprise in his voice, and he once more needed to curb the temptation to laugh. _And they call me thick._

“No, he wasn't,” Harry replied, though this time he was less successful in hiding his amusement, and the words escaped him more as a laugh than anything else. “I thought I was going mad, but...as pathetic as it might sound, I feel like despite our massive fuckups, I feel like...like...it's you. It's _always_ been you. Even without the bond, I've never felt like this for anyone else, Remus. When I'm with you...half of me is on fire, going mad if I'm not touching you. The other half is so...still. Perfectly at peace, and knowing that this is where I need to be. You complete me, Remus.”

“Oh, Harry,” Remus breathed, and Harry shivered a little at the feeling of the older man's breath tickling his cheek, “I feel the same, but...I don't want to possibly hurt you, I'd rather kill myself than do that again.” His genuine fear rang through every word, and Harry's hold on him tightened.

Harry bit his lip, mildly overwhelmed at the sincerity he heard in Remus's voice. He knew that Remus meant it—he was doing all he could to _not_ repeat history. However, Harry knew that some things were indeed different from last time—the absence of the bond that had messed them up so badly being the major one.

Taking a calculated risk, Harry pushed himself up on his toes, and his arms slid up the older man's back, stopping at his shoulders, and he felt Remus's breath catch. Harry did not pause, and did not allow himself to dwell on the bodily reaction. He'd waited so long— _too long—_ to turn back now.

“The only thing that has ever hurt me is being apart from you,” Harry said sincerely, “please, _please_ don't push me away again.”

His voice quivered, very close to a crack, and Remus's arms tensed around him. Harry blinked, and a tear dripped down his cheek. Remus lifted a hand to Harry's cheek, and immediately brushed it away.

“Please...” Harry whispered, his stoicism a complete lost cause as his voice trembled, and Remus lifted his other hand to cradle Harry's face gently.

“Oh, Harry...” Remus whispered, his voice just as weak as Harry's was, and he leant forward.

Their lips met, and Harry was overwhelmed with the sudden sense that at last, he had finally, truly, come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was really on the fence about the pantry bit, and I got a lot of mixed responses from my test subjects. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it, rather than think it lame or something of a cop-out. ^.^;


	27. The Right Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back to our regularly scheduled updates! Next one will be Thursday, September 21st. This one's a bit on the short side, so apologies in advance for that.

Chapter Twenty-Seven – The Right Way

 

Harry did not know whether or not he should have been annoyed when he pulled back from Remus, only to hear the pantry door creak open behind them.

Remus, on the other hand, chuckled softly, only to draw Harry in for another kiss that seemed to send electric shocks to every part of Harry's body. He felt as though he might weep from how good it felt to be held by Remus again, and the mixture of sorrow and joy that Harry saw on Remus's face told him that likely the dominant was feeling the same thing.

“Come on,” Remus murmured, a note of reluctance in his voice as he pulled back, “let's talk about this before anything else.”

“Talk?” Harry asked, his mind still a little foggy from the kiss, and Remus chuckled again as one of his hands dropped to Harry's hip, still holding him close.

“Yes, _talk,_ ” he said, “if we're going to try this again, I think we need to at least _try_ to act like proper adults and discuss everything before we make any decisions about whether or not to go forward with this thing—I meant it when I said that I didn't want to hurt you again, Harry. I still struggle with my feelings of ownership of you...my need to dominate you. I don't want to do that, I don't want to be _that_ person any more. I love you, and I don't want to do anything else to hurt you.”

For a moment, Harry didn't say anything at all, too overwhelmed with what he was hearing.

 

_I love you, and I don't want to do anything else to hurt you._

 

Harry kissed him again, and Remus immediately wrapped his arms around Harry's waist to pull him close. Harry moved willingly, and he felt as though his body had been set aflame— _this_ was what a kiss was supposed to feel like; like home and safety, like fire, a burning passion and warm comfort all rolled into one. Harry's hands moved to entangle in Remus's hair, and he felt, rather than heard the purr-like growl of approval that escaped the older man as he held Harry close.

“My Harry...” he whispered reverently, and immediately froze as an anguished look crossed his face as he realized what he'd said. In response, Harry arched up and kissed him again.

“My Remus,” Harry replied in the same soft tone, and bit his lip as he felt his face grow warm, and Remus chuckled once more, this time in approval.

“Talk?” he prompted, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“ _The guest room is free if you want some privacy!_ ”

Hermione's voice cut through their quiet moment, and both men bowed forward as they began to laugh.

“Come on,” Harry said, his hands dropping to Remus's, and their fingers immediately tangled together. He gave the limb a gentle tug as he led the older man out of the pantry and to the guest room, only to freeze to a halt just outside the door. Memory flooded back into Harry instantly, and he gasped sharply as the world fell away.

 

_The lack of aural stimulation quickly began to mess with his head; every soft groan of the building, the pitter-patter of Crookshanks racing up and down the hallway, the incessant twittering of Pig—it all sounded deafening to him. Harry clutched at his hair and rocked back and forth on the bed, struggling to reign in the panic that was always so close to the surface these days._

_He shivered, feeling sickened with himself._ Oh, how the mighty have fallen... _Harry thought, smiling bitterly into the crook of his arms._ Who knew extended isolation was all that was needed to break The Saviour of The Wizarding World _. He felt utterly pathetic._

 

Harry wasn't wholly aware that he had frozen on the spot, nor how long his flashback had caught him this time. When he came out of it, he found himself in Ron and Hermione's sitting room, and a warm, larger body was holding onto him—almost cradling him, and there was a steaming cup of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of him. A hand was in his hair and stroking it gently, and Remus was whispering softly. So softly in fact, that it took a moment for what the older man was saying to register in Harry's mind.

“ _Harry, Harry, come back to me_ ,” he murmured, “ _you're safe, the past cannot hurt you, come on, come back to me..._ ”

Harry jerked and his breath hitched, and Remus let him go at once as he bowed forward to bury his face in his hands.

“You must think I'm so pathetic,” Harry muttered, his words muffled, “I mean...who freaks out over a _room_?”

“You were held prisoner in that room,” Remus said gently, and moved to rub his back. Harry welcomed the touch—it was grounding, and made him feel like he was actually _here_ and not trapped in his memories. “It's only natural that you'd react that way. I'm sorry, Harry, I'd completely forgotten that. Hermione too, she wasn't thinking when she recommended that we use that room...”

“Where _is_ Hermione, anyway? And Ron?” Harry asked as he looked up, realizing quite suddenly that though they were still in Ron and Hermione's flat, they seemed to be the only ones there.

“Ron took Hermione to The Three Broomsticks,” he explained, “she wanted to be here to apologize to you, but Ron thought it best that you don't have too many people coming at you from all sides when you came out of it.”

Harry heaved a sigh, and slumped against Remus's side. Despite the reassurance that he _wasn't_ pathetic for how he'd reacted, he did not feel that way. So much had happened to him in such a short span of time, and every time he _thought_ he was better, something would happen to prove that he was just as damaged as before, and he was beginning to feel as though he'd _never_ be back to how he used to be.

Remus did not immediately speak, but snaked both arms around Harry's waist and held him close. He rested his chin on Harry's shoulder, and they sat in silence as Harry tried to figure out what he wanted to say. It was terribly confusing to be both anguished and over the moon with joy all at once, and he had no idea where to start in sorting out his thoughts.

Instead, Harry chose the avoidance tactic, and reached for the teacup that had been left out for him, then settled back into Remus's side. It felt right—normal. He could not help but compare it to how it had been with Ulrich, in particular how _different_ it was. Ulrich and Remus were both dominant werewolves, after all, but it was like Remus's entire personality had switched, and he was back to how he had been before all the madness had started—he was back to simply being the Remus Harry had fallen for to start with.

“I suppose we should... _talk_ ,” Harry said at last, and winced. For some reason, the word sounded strange to him, though he couldn't completely articulate why.

“Where do you want to start?” Remus asked, and despite his mild tone, Harry could practically feel the fear rolling off of him. Was what Harry wanted really _that_ scary to him?

“There's a lot to go through,” Harry said as he sipped his tea, “it's like...like looking at a messy room that you need to clean without magic, and having no idea where to start, you know?”

“Yes,” Remus replied with a soft chuckle, “I know.” He paused, and reached for his own teacup. “I suppose the first step is our needs—what we both want and need out of all this. I want to be with you, Harry, I do, but you know how I feel.”

“Afraid,” Harry answered, and Remus nodded.

“I caused you a lot of damage, both physically and emotionally. Some of it can be explained away by the bond messing with our heads, but a lot of it was me, and my difficulties with this...affliction.”

“You like to handle things on your own,” Harry filled in, and Remus nodded. “Sort of like...panicking when your partner confides in you, and instead of dealing with it, you scarper?”

Remus winced at the words, but he did not try to defend himself.

“Certainly not my finest hour,” he said after nearly a full minute of silence, “my own issues nearly killed you, and there's no excusing that. I just wish I knew why you'd want to be with me at _all_ after everything.”

“You and me both,” Harry teased, and Remus chuckled softly. “I think...I think in the end a lot of it _was_ the bond messing with our heads. I mean, I like to think that I know you, and you'd never...I mean...you have issues, especially when it comes to your werewolf side, but I like to think that if it wasn't for the bond, you would have stayed.”

“You've no way of knowing that,” Remus muttered, and his arm tensed around Harry, while Harry, in turn, pressed himself more securely into Remus's side. “I'm a coward, there's every chance I would have abandoned you anyway.”

“...Maybe it's best we never know,” Harry mumbled in a small voice, and winced. “Let's just...move forward, yeah? If we keep discussing the past I don't think we'll accomplish anything with this... _talk_.”

“I agree,” Remus replied with a small sigh, “I still...I just feel _awful_ about what I put you through, and even though I want you in my life, I also feel like I don't deserve you.”

“Why's that?”

“Oh, Harry, you really have no idea what others see when they look at you, do you?”

“A vertically challenged werewolf with untameable hair?” Harry offered, and Remus barked a laugh. It was loud and genuine, and the closest thing to a full show of joy that Harry had seen from Remus in a good long while. It warmed him to see it, and he grinned as Remus swept in for a kiss.

“An incredibly courageous young man, who has never let the tragedies in his life define him...a man who never lets his mind grow stale and stagnant with bitterness, but answers to his unfortunate circumstances with love, and never hate. Can you possibly see why I'd wonder why you would ever choose to be with someone like me?”

“No,” Harry said, and leant up to kiss him, “you're being stupid. Remus, you've saved my life so many times in so many ways and you've never once stopped and expected a thank-you. You just _did_ it. You're so self-sacrificing it's actually really humbling. You have such a bad view of yourself. I mean, issues aside, you...you're brave, and strong, and...Remus, I wish you wouldn't put yourself down like that. You have no idea how good you really are.”

As Harry fell silent, he watched as Remus flushed an attractive shade of red at the string of compliments, and he grinned.

“I don't think I'm all that, but...maybe let's actually talk now, we keep skirting round the subject...”

“All right,” Harry replied with a small nod, and he forced himself to focus. He didn't _want_ to discuss things, he just wanted to _do_ them, but he could understand why Remus wanted to discuss it all first. Harry drained the rest of his tea and set aside his cup, then wrapped both his hands around Remus's free one. “Let's talk, then. Tell me, going forward, what worries you the most about all this?”

“My werewolf instincts, on the whole,” Remus replied as he set aside his own empty cup and rested his opposite hand over one of Harry's. “I feel...jealous of you, possessive...I don't like the scent of other dominants on you, even if it's someone like Hermione, who has no interest in you like that. When I see you, all I can think is... _mine_. I don't want to be like that, I don't want to _possess_ you. I want to be a part of your life, not control it.”

“Blimey, that Mind Healer really did a number on you,” Harry remarked, a note of breathless awe in his voice, “even a few months ago I can't imagine you saying that.”

Remus leant in to kiss Harry, a gesture of affection that he readily returned, and all the while he stared at Harry like he was the sun.

“I meant what I've been saying...of late, at least,” Remus said, “I want to better myself. Not just for you, but for me, too. I don't want to be that person, not anymore.”

“Part of me likes it when you get possessive,” Harry admitted, his cheeks darkening as he said it, “but I think that's the sub werewolf part of my mind talking. Mostly, it scares me. I'm not a thing—I'm not a toy. I'm a person, you know? I don't think Ulrich ever really fully understood that.”

“He was socialized with other werewolves, and I was not. It's only natural that he'd be that way,” Remus replied mildly, though despite the neutral tone, Harry felt Remus's hands tense in his at the mention of his ex.

“Natural or not, I didn't like it. At least with you I'm less worried about being subjected to that all the time, it's just around the full moon when you get tetchy.” Harry paused when Remus chuckled warmly, and he cracked a small smile. A large part of him wanted to simply abandon this _talk,_ climb into Remus's lap and snog him senseless, but he forced himself to resist temptation, and instead focused on being a proper adult about the whole situation, and _discuss_ it. “I think...going forward, I mean, I think we should go slow, like... _sloth_ slow. Even though I want this—I love you, Remus—there's still a lot of damage that's been done, and even though I love you, I can't say that I completely trust you.”

“That's fair,” Remus replied with a small nod of his head, and most surprisingly, Harry saw no flash of hurt in the older man's eyes at his confession. “What do you propose?”

After spending so much time in Ulrich's company, where the dominant would habitually and instinctually take the lead, for a moment Remus's willingness to step back and allow Harry to take control caught him off-guard. He studied the dominant werewolf—his older face, handsome, faintly lined, his amber eyes, his warm, welcoming smile—all of it was open and honest, and did not at all appear to be feigned. Harry's heart trilled in his chest, and he squeezed Remus's hands lightly.

“You're by and large in the wizarding world, and I have my place with the pack,” Harry said, “I won't return to that world, I feel...the pack is where I need to be. But I wouldn't ask you to come back to the pack either, that wouldn't be fair. I'm in the Sub House right now, and I thought, well...maybe we could act like a courting pair, spend time together both in and outside the territory, as well as at full moons, and maybe decide later whether or not to live full time in one place or another?”

“I...I don't like the idea of you being on your own in the Sub House,” Remus replied, and winced as he spoke, as though the words were physically painful for him to vocalize. “I worry about some other dominant laying claim to you...”

“Remus, I'm not some...some fickle sub that's going to play you against a bunch of other dominants, nor am I about to _let_ some handsy dom make a pass at me,” Harry said firmly, and Remus winced again, the look in his eyes clear and apologetic. Harry pressed forward as though he hadn't noticed the expression. “You know how Alpha runs the pack; if a sub says no, that's the end of it. You're going to have to trust me a little.”

“I _do_ trust you, Harry,” Remus said in a rush, “it's the others that I don't...” he shook his head, “I'm sorry. I just...I'm afraid of losing you again.”

“Let me tell you a little trick to not _losing me,_ as you put it,” Harry said, “just _chill_. You know I want to be with you, and I _know_ that I want to be with you. Isn't that enough? Just 'cause I bump into a dominant or whatever doesn't mean I'm planning to cheat on you. I want _you_ , Remus. No one else. We're trying to fix things here, why would I want to cock it all up by doing something like that?”

“I know you wouldn't,” Remus said quickly, a note of panic in his voice, “I _do_ trust you, and I trust _us_ , I'm just...”

Harry cut him off with a kiss. He untangled his hands from Remus's and moved to wrap them around the older man's neck, and he marvelled at how with that simple act he felt all of the tension evaporate from the dominant's body. A grin twitched at the corners of Harry's mouth, and Remus pulled Harry closer with a soft groan. Harry immediately climbed into Remus's lap, and pressed his knees against the sofa's upholstery on either side of his hips, and he felt the older man's arms lock around his waist.

“You're just what?” Harry asked softly, and kissed him again. Remus looked up at him, his eyes mournful and apologetic, and his jaw seemed to be quivering, like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't form the words. Harry waited for a moment, but when Remus did not speak, he attempted to fill in the blanks. “You're just scared?” Remus nodded. “Scared of hurting me?” another nod, “of this falling apart again?” he nodded for a third time

“All right, listen,” Harry said in the same soft tone, but with a firm edge highlighting his words, “the only way we won't muck this all up again is by _talking_. If you're scared or upset by something, you talk to me, and I will help you—if I can. Same goes for me. It'll just be the same song, different verse if we go back to dealing with our stuff on our own.”

Harry paused, and watched Remus's expression from his perch in the older man's lap. Primarily he saw guilt lining his features, but paired with it Harry could also see longing and doubt. It was a full spectrum of emotions that Harry was explicitly familiar with, and it both heartened and anguished Harry to see it on Remus's face.

Harry reached out and cradled Remus's cheek gently. The sparse stubble tickled the pads of his fingers, and Remus immediately leant into the touch while he gazed up at Harry.

“You're too good to me, Harry,” he said as he moved to cover Harry's hand with one of his own. “I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but I will do everything in my power to give you the happiness that you deserve.”

Harry felt his heart stutter a little at the heartfelt proclamation, and he watched as Remus gently closed his fingers around Harry's hand, and moved it to his mouth. He brushed his lips over Harry's fingertips, before he slowly drew him into a warm, tender kiss.

Quite forgetting where they were, as they kissed Remus snaked his hands underneath Harry's jumper and pressed his rough, weather-worn palm against his spine, and circled them around to ghost across his abdomen. Harry shivered at the tickling sensation, and at the same time, he began to thumb open the buttons on Remus's cardigan with shaky, fumbling fingers, just as the flat's front door suddenly creaked open. Both Remus and Harry looked up, and they spotted Ron and Hermione staring at them, their eyebrows raised.

Ron's falsely innocent voice broke the awkward silence.

“We interrupting?”

 


	28. Indecision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be September 26th

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Indecision

 

Harry returned to the territory that evening after he and Remus had joined Ron and Hermione for supper. Most unfortunately, he'd quite forgotten that the scent of Remus would cling to him like a heavy perfume. As he wove through the submissives and dominants, he did not miss the way several sets of eyes followed him—looks of confusion, of bewilderment—and of heartbreak.

Harry avoided Ulrich's eye as he walked, but despite his best efforts, he still caught the mournful look upon the dominant's face, and he felt his stomach clench guiltily.

Unable to handle the stares, Harry made a beeline for the Sub House, and breathed a sigh of relief when he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

The familiar scents of the house, and the solitary smell of only submissives surrounding him was calming. Harry hadn't quite realized how tense he was until that exact moment, when immediately upon entering the house, it felt as though every bone in his body had turned to jelly.

Despite the fact that it was still relatively early, Harry made a beeline for the sleeping quarters, but his shoulders sagged a little with disappointment when he saw that Tavish wasn't there.

“He's with Fenrir tonight,” a voice said, and Harry turned to see Adina standing in the doorway with a small smile on her face. “I wouldn't go looking for him right now, if I were you.”

“How'd you know I was looking for Tavish?” Harry asked, and her smile widened to a warm, maternal expression that reminded him deeply of Molly Weasley.

“Come with me, Harry,” she said simply, and without waiting for a response, she turned and sauntered out of the sleeping quarters. Harry hastened to follow, and she led him through the sitting area (dotted by a few of the subs, but mostly empty at such an early hour of the night) and to an area of the house he hadn't been to before—the kitchen.

It was a very simple space, with a fireplace and overhanging iron rod for attaching cauldrons for stew, an old-fashioned wood stove, and an island surrounded by simple wooden stools. The cupboards had no doors, and Harry could see a jumbled mix of mismatched mugs, plates, and bowls inside.

“I didn't know there was a kitchen in here,” he said conversationally as he took a seat, and Adina offered him a small smile as she started the fire in the oven, and set a full tin kettle atop it to boil.

“We don't use it too much,” Adina replied, “usually if a sub is accosted by a dominant and it goes too far, they're sometimes reluctant to leave the House unless they absolutely have to, so we let them take their meals in here until they feel confident enough to leave again.”

“So why are we using it now?” Harry asked as he arched a brow at her, “I'm not traumatized...not at the moment, anyway.”

“I assumed you'd rather unwind in a space where you're not being stared at by every horny dominant in the pack,” Adina said, much more coarsely that Harry would have expected from the older woman, and she smiled at him when her words were met with a blank stare. “From our perspective, you're available again. A lot of dominants would love to get their hands on you.”

Harry shivered at the phrasing, just as the kettle began to whistle. Adina turned from him to pour them each a cup of tea, and Harry accepted it with a small nod of thanks.

“I'm _not_ though—available, that is,” Harry said once Adina had seated herself across from him, “I'm with Remus again...sort of, at least.”

“To us, you're not,” Adina replied simply, “you and he are living in different places; your dominant is not here to defend his claim of you.”

“ _My_ dominant?”

“He is yours, and you are his, regardless what the dominants may think,” Adina said, her mouth twitching into a small smile. “During the breeding season, female subs can be just as volatile as the dominants, they don't monopolize possessive werewolf behaviour as much as they _think_ that they do.”

“Breeding season,” Harry mumbled under his breath, and refocused his gaze on Adina as something suddenly occurred to him. “Wait, does that mean Alpha has kids?”

“Indeed he does,” Adina said, and laughed out loud at Harry's look of utter shock that crossed his face at her response. “Six. All of my flesh.”

“Who are they?” Harry blurted out before he could think better of it, “ _where_ are they?”

“Ainslie, Nina, my triplets—Ryder, Rae, Rhys—and my last, Violet,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers as she went, her eyes gaining a faraway look as she spoke. “Gone now.”

“Gone?” Harry asked, and winced a little at how insensitive the question sounded in his own ears. However, Adina did not appear offended, and she answered him in a calm and conversational tone, as though they were discussing nothing more than the weather, or what they planned to have for dinner.

“It's tradition for the children of the pack alpha to strike out on their own when they come of age. Sometimes they come back, but often they join other packs or start their own,” Adina explained patiently. “I never liked it, and neither did Alpha, but he'd only just come into power and begun to overturn our laws about the treatment of the submissive pack members at that time, and he worried that too much change too fast would lead to an uprising from people like Bryce.”

“How long ago was that?” Harry asked curiously, his head tilting to the side as he watched her expression shift to a faraway, almost nostalgic look.

“Almost thirty years,” she replied, “I've been unable to bear children since the first war, your _Dark Lord_ saw to that. He cursed me when Alpha would not cooperate, and I have not been able to bear a child since.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Harry said quickly, but Adina shook her head.

“Don't apologize for something you could not control, Harry,” she said firmly. “It is not something that pains me anymore—not in the same way, at least. It was a long time ago, and I am no longer concerned that Fenrir will push me aside for another sub.”

“But...” Harry paused and grimaced, uncertain how to form his question without sounding terribly insensitive. “Er...but what about Tavish?”

“How could _anyone_ know Tavish and feel anything but protective adoration for him?” she asked with a warm laugh, and Harry cracked a small smile. “Perhaps it looks a little odd to you because of how you were raised, but in werewolf culture, it is not uncommon for an alpha to take two mates—a breeding sub and a paramour—or _bit on the side_ , if you want to be crude. Precious few alphas will take just a breeding sub or a male sub, it's usually both. I've never felt threatened by him, and as far as I know, he's never felt threatened by me, either. As far as breeding subs go, Fenrir never wanted anyone else, it's always just been me.”

She finished her statement with a smile, and Harry could all but feel the confidence exuding from it. She was deeply proud to have been chosen by the alpha, and it was a feeling that Harry knew that Tavish shared with her. To be on his arm (or in his bed) was not a job to them, it was a privilege. It was hard to believe that she and Tavish had been with Greyback for thirty years.

Harry blinked, and thought back to it again.

Tavish did not look older than twenty-five, at most. How was that possible?

“Wait, hang on,” Harry said suddenly, “thirty _years_? Tavish talked about Alpha overturning those laws for the subs too, but I thought it was just a year or two ago...”

“For werewolves who accept what they are and do not fight it, like myself, Alpha, Ulrich, and Tavish, nature takes over,” Adina explained patiently. “A natural werewolf will age more slowly, but those who fight it, either with magic or muggle drugs, the opposite happens.”

“So how old are you—all of you?”

“It's impolite to ask a lady that sort of question,” Adina teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth, and Harry laughed. “In short, we all look _good_ for our age.”

“I felt like I knew so much about werewolf culture,” Harry said, his head bowing forward as he stared into his teacup. “After getting to know Remus, and the turning, and everything, but every time I feel like I've learned everything, something else happens that shows how little I actually know.”

“Remus's story was always a sad one,” Adina replied as her mouth twitched into a frown. “Never in all my life have I met someone who hated themselves that much. At one time, he believed himself to be cursed, always to gain something good in his life, only to lose it in some sort of brutal fashion. First his lover and his friends, then everything that happened between him and you...”

“—lover?” Harry cut in, “what lover?”

“I can't remember his name,” Adina replied with another frown, “Something Black...Cyrus...Cyril...”

“...Sirius?” Harry asked weakly.

“Sirius, that's it!” Adina proclaimed, but her smile dimmed at once when she saw the look on Harry's face. He turned away from her and sipped his tea, and tried to get a handle on the strange emotions that were coursing through him as he sat there and tried to absorb this new piece of information.

“Harry, dear, are you all right?”

“I don't know...” Harry replied with a small grimace, “I feel... _weird_. Sirius was my...my godfather. Remus never mentioned that they had been involved.”

“It's usually considered good form to not discuss your former partners with your current one,” Adina said, “I doubt he was doing it to deliberately keep you in the dark.”

“It's not that,” Harry replied as he grimaced, “I don't really feel upset that he didn't tell me—I mean, it's _his_ business, that...but...I feel... _jealous._ ” Harry's voice dropped to a soft whisper, and he felt his face flare with embarrassment. “I'm _jealous_ of my sodding _godfather_. It just feels so...strange.”

“Part of that is likely instinct,” Adina replied, “you don't want anyone to have your mate but you.”

“I s'pose...but I think it's more that I'm involved with someone who had been seeing my _godfather_. It's weird...isn't it?”

“Not _that_ weird,” Adina replied with a small smile, “both in wizarding and werewolf culture, age gaps are nothing. There's close to a forty-year age gap between Alpha and Tavish, and during the nineteenth century, it was not uncommon for an older man to court or be betrothed to people half their age.”

“That's not really making me feel any better,” Harry mumbled, and drained the rest of his tea before he jumped back to a more pressing topic of conversation. “It's not important. Anyway, what can I do to keep the dominants off my arse?” Harry felt his face grow warm, both at the accidental innuendo, and Adina's answering, amused smile. “I mean, keep them away? I don't want to make things more complicated between Remus and me.”

“If you could convince your mate to come back to the territory and live amongst us, that would be your safest option,” Adina replied with a firm, matter-of-fact tone of voice. Harry frowned; that wasn't exactly what he had wanted to hear.

“I can't do that to him, not now,” Harry said at once, “he still has a hard time with the werewolf parts of himself. I don't think he hates himself like he used to—he's working on it, at least—but I don't want him to feel pressured to come back here. I only want him to come back if _he_ wants to, you know?”

“I know,” Adina confirmed with a small nod, though the doubtful look in her eyes made it clear that she did not approve of it, either. “The other option is to revert back to how you were when you first came to us—stay close to the other unmated subs, and don't wander off alone, _especially_ around the full moon.”

 

~*~

 

The following afternoon, Harry Apparated to Remus's cabin on the edge of the wood, his head so overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts and emotions that it was rather a miracle that he didn't splinch himself in the process.

Harry traipsed to the door, and it opened before he even reached it. His heartbeat tripled in an instant when he saw Remus standing there, beaming at him.

Despite his concerns over everything, he could not help but close the distance between himself and Remus at a run, and he shivered with delight when he felt the older man close his arms around him and kiss him soundly. Like every other time they'd kissed in recent history, it felt to Harry very much like he had come home.

“Hi,” Harry said when they'd reluctantly broken the kiss, and Remus smiled at him again with that same warm, welcoming expression.

“Hi,” he echoed with a chuckle, and kissed Harry again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Harry replied at once, and arched up for another kiss. “We've only been apart for barely a day...is it bad that we've got such bad separation anxiety for each other?”

“I'm not sure if it's true separation anxiety,” Remus answered as he slowly pulled back from the embrace, and with a hand at Harry's back, he led him inside. “More like we're still not used to having each other around again. It's still a luxury for us.”

Harry wrapped an arm around Remus's waist, and leant against his side a little as they wove their way towards the kitchen, where the table was leaden with a pot of tea and a tray of small homemade cakes.

“I think we should talk a bit before we...er, _relax,_ ” Remus said, his face tinting a little pink, and Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing at the physical reaction to his own words. It did not take a genius to work out that by _relax_ Remus obviously meant _snog_.

“What d'you want to talk about?” Harry asked as he took a seat and moved to pour the tea, while leaving a generous gap in Remus's so that he could drown his in milk and sugar. The older man smiled gratefully as he accepted the cup, and proceeded to do just that while he answered Harry's question.

“I think we need to discuss how we're going to go forward with all of this,” Remus explained as he picked up a teaspoon to stir his sugary, milky concoction. “I don't want to risk a repeat of last time—I don't want to hurt you again, Harry.”

“Well...so far, I'd say you're doing quite well,” Harry offered as he reached across the table to take one of Remus's hands. He smiled brightly as he squeezed Harry's fingers with his own before he reluctantly let go.

“I think the key is keeping it that way, Harry,” Remus replied in his familiar, mild tone, and sipped his tea. “I could smell when I held you that you haven't been in direct contact with any dominants, but I can still smell them on you, albeit faintly, and it still makes me...jealous.” Remus paused as he winced, and offered Harry an apologetic glance before he continued. “Given how our natural instinct demands us re-stake a claim...I—I don't want to do that to you. If we're to do this, I _don't_ want to hurt you again.”

The forcefulness of his tone caught Harry off-guard—the vehemence with which Remus spoke, far from unnerve Harry, it instead made him hopeful that they could actually make this work. Harry shifted seats so that he was sitting adjacent to Remus, instead of across from him, and he took his hand again. Immediately, their fingers threaded together.

“Erm, I spoke to Adina yesterday,” Harry hedged, uncertain whether it was a good idea to say so at all, “and, er, she said that the dominants in the territory would see me as, er, _available_ again, because you're not there. Her suggestions were either you come back to the territory, or I stick close to the other subs.” Harry felt his stomach turn over guiltily as Remus seemed to balk at the suggestion that he return, and Harry pressed on quickly before Remus could get the wrong idea. “I've been doing the latter...I don't want you to feel forced to come back.”

“I appreciate it, Harry,” Remus replied, “I don't know if I _could_ go back...that place is not exactly one that I remember fondly.” He paused and lifted Harry's hand to his lips, then brushed his knuckles in a light kiss. Harry felt his face flame in response to the gentle touch, but Remus spoke again before he could respond. “Alternatively, I also understand why you're reluctant to return to the wizarding world, and would not wish to force you back there, either.”

“Then where does that leave us?”

“Stuck, I think, somewhere in the middle.”

“Somehow, that's not making me feel any better,” Harry said dryly, and Remus laughed.

 

The couple came to no more conclusions as they sat there, punctuating their conversation with food and drink, and soon they migrated over to the sitting room. At this, as they settled down, entangled in each other's arms, Harry could not help but laugh a little.

“Is something funny?” Remus asked as Harry leant against his side, and he wrapped a secure arm around Harry's waist.

“Not exactly _funny_ ,” Harry replied, “just...familiar. I can't count the number of times we did this you know...before. When things were good.”

“Better times,” Remus agreed, and Harry shifted his gaze up to Remus, and was startled at how perfect and how _right_ he felt in that moment, simply by being held by Remus. He'd never felt anything close to this with Ulrich, or even with Ginny.

Once again, Harry could feel it—Remus was _the one_.

“With more good times to come, I hope,” Harry replied, and immediately felt the heat rise in his cheeks at the breathless tone in which he spoke. Remus raised his eyebrows, apparently caught between surprise and hope at Harry's statement, and after a half-beat, he drew Harry into a kiss.

Harry reacted immediately, and clambered into the older man's lap, never once breaking the kiss as he went. He felt overwhelmed with a number of different emotions, and this time, anguish was not one of them.

Remus wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and he held him close, a solitary tear streaking his cheek, which caused Harry to pull back and look down at him.

The older man was smiling and staring up at Harry with a look of complete adoration upon his face, but his eyes were shining, and Harry bit his lip nervously.

“Are...are you okay?” Harry asked, and Remus chuckled as he brought a hand up to Harry's cheek to caress it lightly.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, and leant in to peck Harry's lips once, “I'm just...so happy. I still feel as though I don't deserve you, after all I've done...”

“I don't care about that anymore,” Harry murmured, “you've done all sorts of things to make up for it...you've proven yourself. So stop feeling guilty, all right?”

“You're too good for me, Harry,” Remus replied simply, and kissed him again.

“I know,” Harry replied teasingly between kisses, but pulled back a little as his conversation with Adina came back to him. “Er, there is one thing I'd like to know, though.”

“Anything.”

“Well...Adina sort of, er, _mentioned_ that you were involved with Sirius...” Harry paused when Remus tensed, but forced himself to press on before he lost his nerve completely. “I just wanted to know why you never told me, that's all.”

For a moment, it seemed as though Remus might not answer. His gaze dropped, and far from looking guilty, he appeared thoughtful. Harry bit his lip in an attempt to keep from interrupting the silence, and patiently waited for Remus to respond.

“I wasn't deliberately trying to keep it from you, Harry,” Remus began, while the hands at Harry's back began to trace the outline his spine lightly, and he shivered. “When everything between us first happened, my instincts, my mind, my... _everything,_ could only see _you_. Nothing else really existed for me. Afterwards, honestly, it never really occurred to me to tell you about us. After Sirius returned in your third year, we never got back together. Our relationship ended when he went to Azkaban.”

“How come?” Harry cocked his head to the side and quickly added, “you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I just—”

“—it's all right, Harry,” Remus interrupted, his tone reassuring as he reached up to stroke Harry's cheek, and brushed his lips in a soft kiss before he continued. “I _want_ you to be in my life, and I want you to properly know me. I want to do things right this time, and it's okay for you to ask me about my personal life. I didn't exactly tell you much the first time round.”

“That's true,” Harry replied, his voice a little hoarse from his dizzying joy and desire all muddled together in his brain, made worse by the gentle touches Remus was bestowing on him. He shook his head a little in an attempt to clear it (which, none too surprisingly, didn't help) and refocused his attention on their topic of conversation. “So, if it's okay for me to ask, why did you two not get back together?”

“Sirius and I...we tried to make it work after, but we no longer... _fit,_ ” Remus explained, a note of grief in his voice as he spoke. “I had changed too much, or Sirius had changed too little, I'm not certain. But we just...” he trailed off and shook his head. “We stayed friends, of course, we still cared about each other, even if we were no longer romantically involved. In a way, I'm almost glad, I—the Department of Mysteries incident was hard enough, I don't know how much harder it would have been if we had still been involved.”

Remus's voice shook a little as he spoke, and he looked away from Harry, his eyes distant, lost in memory. His hands had slackened at Harry's back, and he felt his own stomach tense at the mention of the Department of Mysteries. It was still difficult to let go of his guilt surrounding that.

Harry leant in and kissed Remus lightly. It took a few moments for the dominant to return to the present, and he clung to Harry again. It was less like one of the possessive embraces he'd experienced before with either Remus or with Ulrich, and more like Harry was the only thing keeping him present and grounded.

“I love you, Harry,” Remus whispered in between kisses, and Harry smiled broadly.

“I love you too, Remus,” Harry replied, and both men laughed softly as they clung to each other in a tight, needy embrace.

 


	29. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Longest chapter in this fic, and last 'filler'-y type chapter. Next update will be September 28th.
> 
> Also, the AO3 editor thingy seemed to have smooshed some of the words of this update together. I'm pretty sure I got them all, but if I missed any, please let me know so that I can fix it. Thanks! :)

Chapter Twenty-Nine – Stay

 

Warm, late summer sunlight fluttered against Harry's cheek like butterfly wings, and before he had even opened his eyes, he knew something was _off_.

Not wrong, exactly, just _off._

For starters, he seemed to be propped in an upright position, instead of laying down.

The second thing that added to the off-feeling was the fact that he could smell nothing but a single dominant werewolf, which was odd, because he knew for a fact that he had returned to sleeping in the Sub House. At the same time, he could hear none of the familiar noises of the territory—no children screaming and playing, none of the idle chitchat of the other occupants of the house—nothing.

Nothing, save for the sound of someone breathing softly next to him.

Harry opened his eyes, and at once all the pieces came together.

He found himself in Remus's sitting room, and he had apparently fallen asleep with his head perched on Remus's shoulder, which explained the dominant scent that he had detected. He couldn't recall falling asleep, but then, it had been a trying few weeks—to say the least—and perhaps it was none too surprising that they'd fallen asleep like that.

Remus let out a soft groan, and his eyelids fluttered open. He looked around, blinking bemusedly, and as his eyes fell on Harry, he let out a low chuckle.

“Looks like we fell asleep,” he observed, and Harry echoed his laugh.

“Looks like,” he agreed as he yawned and stretched, the action causing his spine to pop in a few places. “I better be getting back, I have lessons, and I'm supposed to start on animal transfiguration with the kids this week...”

“Have time for a spot of breakfast before you go?” Remus asked as he stood up and stretched. “And you can use my bathroom if you want...”

“Sounds like heaven,” Harry replied with a purr, and kissed Remus once before he headed towards the shower.

 

Harry had half-expected Remus to sneak in after him, and was therefore somewhat surprised when he acted the part of a gentleman and let him shower alone. Harry used a few freshening charms on his clothing from yesterday after a quick wash, and when he exited the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, he was enveloped in the delicious smell of Remus's excellent cooking.

The table was leaden with a modest spread of sausages, eggs, toast, and tea. Harry's stomach gave an audible rumble, and Remus smiled warmly at him as he added the finishing touches to their breakfast, summoning jam, a pat of butter, and cutlery.

“This feels oddly familiar,” Harry remarked as he sat down and began to serve himself, while Remus mirrored him.

“I believe the first time we accidentally woke up together, I made enough breakfast food to feed ten of you,” Remus replied, and Harry grinned at him.

“I've missed this, you know,” he said fondly. The dominant met Harry's gaze and cocked a brow at him. “Not just the being with you part, I mean. But little things...waking up with you, talking, your fantastic cooking...it feels like...like...coming home.”

For a moment, Remus seemed unable to react, and merely stared across the table at Harry in quiet surprise.

“That...I have no words for how happy it makes me to hear you say that, Harry,” Remus said softly, while he offered Harry a warm smile, and reached across the table for his hand.

Harry happily threaded his fingers with the older man's, and offered the limb a gentle squeeze.

 

~*~

 

When Harry had bid Remus goodbye and returned to the territory, he was privy to the reverse of what he had been expecting, and he noted how a number of dominants (the ones who usually took any opportunity to cop a feel) were veering away from him, and in their eyes Harry caught expressions of muddled disappointment and suspicion. He frowned, confused by the attitude, but given that he was already bordering on late, he did not pass it much thought as he hurried to the area of the territory he used for their lessons, but he was quickly intercepted by Greyback.

Harry stumbled back, startled by the alpha's sudden appearance, and the alpha himself looked deeply irritated.

“You did not return to the territory last night,” he said, and Harry frowned. _What am I, five?_

“Is that a crime?” Harry asked mildly, unable to keep a note of sarcasm from his voice. Greyback narrowed his eyes as a lightning-fast his arm shot out, and he grabbed Harry by the throat. It was nowhere near hard enough to bruise, but the hold _was_ enough to spark Harry's _warning_ instincts. He tensed his muscles in an effort to keep still, while his mind practically _screamed_ at him to run from the perceived threat.

“Don't push it, Potter,” Greyback growled, “I've already given you more liberties than most subs—more than I should have, I'll warrant. You're part of my pack, you're _my_ responsibility, whether you like it or not. I keep tabs on my subs, so that if one wanders off we can find them _before_ a rogue dominant, or something else, gets to them. You haven't the strength to match a dominant, something I _thought_ we'd drilled into your head by now. If you're going to be out all night with Lupin, _tell_ someone.”

“You sound like a mother, not an alpha,” Harry retorted as he wrenched himself out of Greyback's hold and took a small step back. He knew that talking like this to Greyback was a fantastically stupid idea, and he had absolutely no idea where these words or his anger was coming from. However, now that he'd started, he felt like he couldn't stop. “It was an _accident_ , all right? We nodded off when we were talking, and when we woke up again it was morning. You knew full-well I was going to see Remus, so I have no idea why the hell you're so pissy at me.”

Sudden pain temporarily blinded all of Harry's senses, and in the same instance, he found himself sprawled on the ground.

“ _Harry!”_

Harry groaned, and he felt a hand brush his upper arm while he cradled his aching cheek. The nearby scent was a submissive one, one Harry recognized immediately as Tavish.

“Watch your mouth, Potter,” Greyback growled, apparently unconcerned that he'd hurt him, “you're a sub of my pack, which makes you _my_ responsibility. If you don't like it, you're welcome to leave.”

He eyed Harry for one more moment, then strode off as though nothing had happened.

Harry watched him go, anger and frustration bubbling in his chest as he glared at the alpha's back.

“Are you all right?” Tavish asked, and Harry turned to him, his friend's brow knitted together in worry, while his hand still rested on Harry's arm.

“I've been better,” Harry muttered as he stood up with a soft groan, “it'd be nice if Alpha didn't treat the pack subs like we're a bunch of five-year-olds, though...”

“Harry, you're a _sub_ ,” Tavish said, emphasizing the word as he led Harry towards the Healer's cabin, “I don't know how many times we've all told you this, but you're no match for a dominant werewolf in strength if one were to corner you. Alpha keeps tabs on all the pack subs—it's to keep them safe, not baby them. Usually, the subs appreciate being looked after, they're not so bitchy about it...”

“ _Bitchy!_ ” Harry sputtered, “I'm not being _bitchy,_ I'm _angry!_ I appreciate being given a place in the pack, and a job that I enjoy, I do, but, Tavish, for all his bravado about taking care of his pack, he just means the dominants, doesn't he? The subs are just a bunch of stupid kids who can't fend for themselves—”

“ _We cannot match a dominant in strength,_ ” Tavish snapped, enunciating each repeated word carefully, as though he was speaking to a child. He bared his teeth, and his anger was so acute that Harry's mouth immediately snapped shut. “I'm not sure how many _more_ times we need to all tell you that before it sinks in. You are a submissive werewolf, Harry. A strong one, a good omen for the pack, but you are still a _sub_. You wander off into the forest on your own, if you come across a dominant who takes a fancy to you and doesn't play by our rules, you will have _no_ chance of surviving it. _Believe_ me.”

Harry did not respond, but eyed Tavish oddly. His expression had darkened, and there was an anguished look in his eyes that told Harry one thing—he was speaking from experience. At some point, Tavish had been subject to the horrible treatment he'd heard described so many times over the last six months. For Tavish, it was not an abstract concept that subs were weaker and more in danger than their dominant counterparts—for Tavish, it was real.

Despite his frustration at Tavish's attitude and Greyback's reprimand, Harry forced himself to keep quiet as they made it to the Healer's cabin, where Daanish took a look at his cheek.

“No concussion, and unfortunately there's nothing that I can do to make the bruise go away any quicker,” he explained as he prodded at Harry's cheek, making him wince. “Alpha-induced injuries need to heal naturally, no magic or potion will quicken the process, I'm afraid.”

“Why not?” Harry asked as Daanish straightened up and walked over to a store cupboard, and extracted a small pear-shaped bottle, which contained a thin green-brown solution, the same colour as steeped mint tea.

“Dominant and Alpha magics block outside sources from tampering with the injuries they inflict upon their own pack members...sort of a punishment, for the injured party to be given a reminder of the wrong that they've done.”

“So... _Sit In The Corner and Think About What You've Done_ magic?” Harry asked, and Daanish chuckled softly.

“Something like that, yeah,” he replied with a nod, and held out the bottle to him. “Take this, a mouthful every four hours. It won't get rid of the pain completely, but it'll at least take the edge off.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered as he closed his fingers around the little bottle and pocketed it.

 

Harry spent the day doing his lessons with his pupils, and though he'd _thought_ he'd been doing an okay job of keeping his sour attitude in check. However, he did not miss the way his kids skirted around him nervously, and even his most outspoken students like Vyvyan and Gina stuttered when they spoke to him.

The entire day left Harry completely knackered, and in the late afternoon as he was assigning homework and finishing up, he had begun to daydream about going to see Remus that evening, paired with a hearty meal and a good, strong cup of tea.

 

At long last, Harry packed up the homework that needed correcting into his rucksack, along with a change of clothes, pyjamas, and his toothbrush—he wasn't exactly planning to spend the night, but if he nodded off again he liked the idea of having some extra clothes handy—and headed for the territory's Apparition Point.

About halfway there, all of Tavish's dire warnings came full- circle when he was intercepted by a dominant.

He slunk out of the trees, his shoulders hunched a little, and he smiled at Harry in what he seemed to think was an attractive smile. Instead of it endearing him to Harry in any way however, it left him feeling distinctly unnerved. Harry recognized the man at once as one of the dominants from the execution circle—Silas—though this fact did not exactly reassure him.

Silas approached Harry slowly, and he did not like the predatory edge to the dominant's stride, and immediately took a nervous step back. Silas smiled again, and flicked a strand of white hair from his dark blue eyes.

“Can I help you?” Harry asked, and gritted his teeth in frustrated embarrassment when his voice escaped him with a light tremor.

“I certainly hope so, Harry,” he replied smoothly, and stopped just short of touching him, but still well within his personal space. Harry stepped back, and Silas mirrored it. He smiled, but again instead of leaving Harry feeling reassured, he continued to feel deeply unsettled by it. “I couldn't help but notice you...at the execution circle, I mean. I never thought I'd find myself interested in a male sub, but you...you have a certain _allure_ about you. And now that you and Ulrich have parted ways—”

“—let me stop you right there,” Harry interrupted, and held up a hand. “I'm not interested. Not even _remotely_ interested. I'm sure you're a wonderful man, but _my_ wonderful man lives outside of the territory, and— _ack! Let go!_ ”

During his explanation, Silas had reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist to tug him close. He squirmed in the dominant's hold, but it did nothing more than elicit a pleased sort of purr from the other man, as though Harry's struggling was somehow attractive to him.

“But he's not here now, is he?” Silas asked as he brushed the tip of his pointed nose along the edge of Harry's throat, “not here to _prove_ that he owns you? He's that decrepit, old, self-loathing _thing_ , isn't he? Regis or Reiner or something? Are you afraid of bedding a _true_ wolf?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Silas as he spouted off insult after insult. However, the dominant had been so busy with his verbal barbs and the added task of trying to pin Harry's arms down while he pawed at him that he had left one significant area exposed.

Without pause, Harry immediately brought his knee up sharply, and he slammed it into Silas's groin as hard has he possibly could.

Silas let go of Harry at once with a howl of pain as he cupped himself, bowing forward as he did so, leaving his head at eye-level with Harry's. Again, Harry did not hesitate as he cracked his fist against Silas's cheekbone, hard enough that in the dominant's somewhat weakened state, it was enough to knock him down. Unfortunately, the sharp _crack_ that rent the air, as well as the ache in his fist that followed told Harry that he may have done some damage to his own hand in the process, which, in his estimation, was a small price to pay for _finally_ being able to put a dominant in his place.

“You...you little...” Silas hissed between sharp gasps of pain, just as a third voice joined the commotion.

“Well he _did_ say no...” Ulrich said as he glared down at Silas, “what were you expecting?”

Silas staggered to his feet while he muttered a string of curses and hobbled off as he all but radiated rage and embarrassment. The moment he'd gone, Ulrich turned to Harry, but _unlike_ Silas, he kept a respectful distance.

“Are you all right?” Ulrich asked while his eyes fell to Harry's purpling knuckles, “I saw Silas sneak off after you and I was about to intervene when...” he trailed off and shook his head. “I guess you really _can_ take care of yourself.”

“Fine,” Harry replied as he flexed his hand reflexively, but immediately regretted it when sharp pain lanced through the limb. “It's what I keep telling you lot, maybe now you'll actually _believe_ me.”

“I think maybe we need to reconsider how we treat our subs around here,” Ulrich replied with a wry smile. “Go to your mate, I'll let Alpha know where you've gone...and what Silas _tried_ to do.”

“Thanks, Ulrich, on both counts,” Harry replied, and smiled at him. Ulrich returned it, and Harry was surprised at how little sadness he saw in the dominant's expression. It was open and friendly—just like the Ulrich he had always known. Harry felt no guilt about breaking it off with him, he knew it had been the right decision on all sides, but at the same time, he was relieved that Ulrich seemed to be making a genuine effort to move on as well, and return their relationship to the cordial, friendly one that it had been before.

“Any time,” he said with another smile, then nodded towards the Apparition Point. “Get out of here, I know you're dying to see Remus.”

Harry offered him a small, grateful smile, then turned and hurried out of the territory without looking back.

 

~*~

 

The second that Harry appeared outside of the cabin, he saw the curtains in front of the window by the door fall back into place, as though someone had been peering outside mere moments before. A second later, Remus opened the front door and beamed at him, as though it had been weeks since they'd last seen each other, and not a few hours.

Abandoning his dignity entirely, Harry grinned as he ran at Remus, and he felt a sense of now-familiar peace wash over him as the older man pulled him in for a kiss.

“What happened?” he murmured without preamble, and it was only then that Harry noticed just how tense Remus was at that moment. “You smell like a dominant...and one that I don't recognize.”

“One of the dominants tried to get handsy with me, even after I told him that I was involved with you,” Harry explained, and eyed Remus curiously, for save the way every muscle in Remus's body seemed to be tense and taut, he showed no other outward signs of the werewolf jealousy that Harry had been expecting. “He wouldn't take no for an answer. So I...er, showed him why underestimating a sub is a bad idea.”

Remus chuckled a little and dropped a hand to Harry's back as he led him inside, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head while he nudged the door shut with his heel.

“Is that how you got that charming bruise on your cheek?” he asked mildly, and Harry frowned. In all the excitement of his pseudo-assault, he'd completely forgotten about it.

“Er, no...that was Greyback,” Harry replied, and bit his lip when Remus's hands tensed on him. He did not speak, but instead led Harry silently over to the sofa, where he conjured a roving tea platter, and pressed a full cup into Harry's hands.

“Start from the beginning, tell me everything.”

Harry obeyed, and started from his departure that morning, to his argument with Greyback, and later with Tavish, and ended with the attempted assault by Silas. All throughout his explanation, Remus kept his hands on him, but not in an overt sort of way like Ulrich used to. It was gentle—a hand on his knee, or rubbing his back, but not clingy or over-the-top. Harry could sense that Remus was upset at Greyback's treatment of him; he had become more tense as Harry's explanation progressed, but at the mention of his attack, Remus finally interrupted him.

“Can I see your hand?” Remus asked, and Harry blinked.

“What?”

“Your hand,” Remus repeated, “may I see it?”

Harry lifted his hand to show Remus, and it was only then that he realized that his knuckles had gone black and blue. His centre knuckle was badly swollen, and when he tried to flex his fingers, he gasped as the pain shot all the way up his forearm.

His vocalization of pain made Remus visibly wince, and he reached out slowly to cradle Harry's hand very gently, and prodded the affected area with the tip of his wand very lightly, though it still managed to sting.

“Hairline fracture to your knuckle and a sprained wrist...Merlin's Beard, Harry, how hard did you hit him?”

“I dunno, hard enough that he fell over?” Harry replied, and Remus chuckled softly.

“Clearly he underestimated you,” Remus mused as he prodded Harry's hand once with his wand, and the pain, swelling, and bruising all vanished instantly.

“It seems to be going around,” Harry replied dryly as he took his hand back and flexed it experimentally. “Thanks. It'll be nice when it isn't so shocking to the pack wolves that a sub can fend for themselves, though...”

“Not all subs are as tough as you,” Remus countered, his tone mild, and not confrontational. “Many have no desire to fight. If they are taken care of and safe, many want little more than that.”

“I can't speak for them,” Harry replied as he returned to his abandoned teacup before he leant into Remus's side. Remus immediately wrapped an arm around Harry and pulled him close. After everything that had happened that day, Remus seemed to need to exert some sort of visible claim over Harry almost as much as Harry needed to be comforted by him. “I'm not Hermione; I won't force the other subs to think a certain way because their ideals don't mesh with mine. But having a choice one way or the other might be nice, instead of just being dismissed as weak _because I'm a sub._ ”

“Harry, the one thing you have never been is _weak_ ,” Remus said, and Harry smiled a little when the older man brushed a light kiss to his temple. “People struggle to see past tradition sometimes; they can't fathom a new way of thinking, because _the way things are_ may not affect them adversely.”

“Like being a dominant in a pack where subs bend to your every whim?” Harry asked, a note of bitterness in his tone. Remus did not respond, but he tightened his arm around Harry protectively.

 

~*~

 

As the evening passed, the couple slowly gravitated away from more serious topics, and instead simply content to enjoy each other's company. Remus cooked, Harry helped him clear up, then over tea in the sitting room, Remus read while Harry corrected essays.

At least, Harry _thought_ Remus was reading.

Harry had been curled up at his end of the sofa, stack of horrid essays on his knees, and over the last hour, Harry could not help but notice the way every time he glanced up, Remus's eyes would suddenly flit back down to his book.

The other tell that Remus was using the book more like a prop instead of _actually_ reading it had to do with the fact that he'd been on the same page for the last forty minutes.

“Is it a difficult passage or something?” Harry asked mildly when he caught sight of Remus's eyes flitting up again.

“What?”

Harry turned to Remus, and chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at the mildly startled look in the older man's eye.

“Well, you've been on the same page for over half an hour, so...are you having trouble with it?”

“Let's just say having you here is a little distracting,” Remus replied with a chuckle, and nudged Harry with his toe.

“Well, if I'm _that_ distracting, I could always go...” Harry made a big show of standing up and making a move towards where he'd left his bag, and let out a small yelp when Remus immediately abandoned his book, reached up, and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist to tug him back down. He landed halfway in Remus's lap with a laugh, his back pressed firmly against the older man's chest.

“Don't even _joke_ about that, Harry...” Remus said, his voice losing its teasing tone as it lowered to something closer to a purr, and once again, Harry felt as though Remus had set him aflame with a single phrase.

Harry turned in the awkward embrace and kissed him hard, and he heard Remus let out a tiny sigh of relief as he returned it. One arm held Harry close, while his opposite hand moved up his back to entangle in his hair, mussing it up more than usual. Harry shifted, trying to turn more fully towards Remus, but his position did not allow him to go very far.

“Harry...” Remus whispered his name like a prayer, and tightened his hold on the younger man. It was less possessive and more needy, as though he feared what might happen if he lost contact with him.

“I'm right here,” Harry replied just as softly, and kissed him again. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“I don't deserve you,” Remus murmured with a weak laugh while Harry mirrored his dominant's embrace, and tightened his hold on the older man.

“Let's not start that again, all right?” Harry said, while he cocked a half smile at the older man. “In the last few months, you've done everything you can to better yourself...you're back to the Remus that I fell in love with. There's no one I'd rather be with.”

“My life was so empty without you,” Remus said softly, a faraway, mournful look in his eyes, “I cannot tell you how happy I am that you're here with me now.”

“Things were never right, after we split up I mean,” Harry replied, and reached up to brush his fingers along Remus's cheek, “It might sound a bit cheesy, but I feel like...it's _always_ been you.”

Remus kissed Harry again, and drew him closer. Harry turned and clambered into the dominant's lap in a more secure position as he returned the kiss, while Remus's arms dropped to his waist, holding him close.

“Tonight...will you stay?” Remus asked, his breath tickling Harry's damp lips, and it took him a moment to process what Remus had asked him.

“Sorry...what?”

“Tonight, would you mind staying over?” Remus repeated, and added quickly, “I'm not expecting anything from you, it's not that, I just enjoyed waking up with you this morning, it was like old times again.”

Harry answered with a kiss, and he felt every muscle in Remus's body immediately relax.

“I'd love to stay,” Harry said at last, “provided you _don't_ carry me anywhere.” Remus smiled warmly at Harry's statement, a flicker of amusement in his eyes at Harry's conditional agreement, but when he responded, Harry was shocked by what he heard in lieu of some sort of gentle taunt in reference to his dislike of being carried places.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

 

Harry didn't bother sending an owl to Greyback to inform him that he was spending the night—again—with Remus. He assumed that the alpha would be able to work it out on his own. He knew that there was every chance that he was setting himself up for another punch to the face, but at the moment, he could care less.

Harry and Remus spent the rest of the evening by the fire, bouncing between simply relaxing together, and snogging like a pair of teenagers. By the time they were ready to call it a night Harry was in a state of pent-up sexual frustration, but he was uncertain whether going further so soon was a good idea or not. They'd only just gotten back together, after all—he didn't want to mess it up by rushing things.

 

It felt both alien and familiar all at once as together they got up, and Remus showed him to his bedroom. It was a tiny space at the back of the house with a small queen bed and wardrobe, and nothing else. There was a window just above the bed, displaying the crescent of the waxing moon in a clear sky, but the window was crooked and roughly hewn, as though it had been created in a hurry.

“This room didn't have a window originally,” Remus explained, as though he sensed Harry's thoughts, “I've never been very good at renovation charms, so it came out a little...lopsided.”

“It's great,” Harry replied, and laughed when Remus eyed him dubiously. “Well, okay, the window's not, but...being here, that's the great part.”

Harry felt himself flush a faint pink at his words, only belatedly aware of how wistful and borderline cheesy he was beginning to sound, and he mumbled something about needing to use the toilet, and rushed out of the room.

He took care of business, then re-entered the bedroom with his rucksack over his arm just in time to catch Remus tugging on his pyjama bottoms, giving Harry a delightful three-second view of the older man's bare arse. Harry bit his lip to try and stifle a grin as Remus whirled around upon his re-entry, his eyes a little wide.

“You were faster than I thought you'd be,” Remus said by way of explanation, and this time, Harry _did_ laugh.

“It's hardly the first time I've seen your arse, Remus,” Harry pointed out, and arched an eyebrow, which seemed to only further the older man's embarrassment.

“Yes, but, last time we sort of...rushed into things. I want to do it right this time.”

“Nowhere in my manual on good relationships is everything thrown off the rails by nudity,” Harry said as he strode forward, pecked Remus lightly on the lips, and rested a hand against his bare chest. “Just _relax_. It's not like this is a _new_ relationship for us, more a...do-over. Besides, if one of us is not ready or does not want to do something, we can use our miraculous capacity for speech to articulate to the other that thing. Right?”

“Right,” Remus echoed, and Harry felt him physically calm down, the taut muscles under his fingers softening as he relaxed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“What for?”

“For being a voice of reason when I'm too afraid of mucking this all up to think clearly.”

“We'll be reasonable in shifts, yeah?” Harry said as he grinned up at him, “that way there's more time for hopeless romanticism.”

“I like that idea,” Remus replied with a chuckle, and leant in to kiss Harry lightly. “Be back in a mo'.”

Without another word, Remus headed off to take his turn in the bathroom, while Harry dug into his rucksack and pulled out his own set of pyjama bottoms and tugged them on. Without waiting, Harry slipped under the duvet and immediately felt something of a tidal wave of calm wash over him as he was enveloped by Remus's scent. It had been so long— _too_ long, since he had experienced such perfect peace like this.

When Remus returned to the bedroom, he appeared marginally surprised that Harry was still there. Harry arched a questioning eyebrow, and Remus smiled sheepishly.

“I keep thinking this is one of my wild dreams about you,” Remus explained as he slipped beneath the covers with him, and immediately Harry cuddled up close and rested his head against Remus's shoulder, while Remus wrapped an arm around his submissive.

“ _Wild_ dreams?” Harry prompted, and Remus chuckled softly.

“Not like how you're thinking,” he explained as he rolled over a little to look at Harry as he spoke. “Nothing kinky, or sexual...just... _us_. You being here, spending time with me, eating together, talking...normal things like that.”

As Remus talked, he idly traced the contours of Harry's face with his fingertips, apparently entranced by him in some strange way. Harry did not miss the soft, almost disbelieving tone in which Remus spoke, as though despite the physical evidence, he was still surprised that Harry was there at all.

Harry reached up and took Remus's hand, then with his other he wrapped it around the back of his dominant's neck and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Remus seemed to melt under Harry's touch, and he smiled a little as he eased back to admire the older man—his _mate_.

“I'm here, I'm real, and I'm not going anywhere,” Harry murmured before he kissed him again. “I'll be here for as long as this thing between us works, so if it's a year, or ten, or for life, I'll stay. I _love_ you. Do you still love me?”

“I never stopped,” Remus answered without missing a beat, and they both smiled widely at each other.

Harry let out a soft, contented sigh as he eased back down in the bed, revelling in being held like this, in the way Remus's warmth transferred to him, how comforting his scent was, and how the dappled moonlight that danced across the blue-grey bedspread seemed to complete the perfect scene.

The moonlight, though pretty, did remind Harry of something he'd rather not think on.

“We're going to need to discuss what we're gonna do for the full moon,” Harry said suddenly, and Remus's hand, which had been idly running through his hair, tensed momentarily before it resumed its gentle, idle strokes.

“I've been giving it some thought,” Remus replied, “because I know that I'll need you to be nearby during that night—our wolf forms are different, and I'll need to defend my claim of you, whether we want to do that or not.” Remus paused, and Harry did not missthe note of regret in his voice as he spoke—he did not want to _claim_ Harry, and despite all the positive changes Remus had made so far, the vehement desire to not treat Harry like a piece of meat still came as something of a shock. Harry was impeded from asking about it however when Remus pressed on quickly.

“I'm not exactly keen to return to the territory, but I don't want to isolate you here, either. I was thinking maybe we alternate—one moon out here, one moon with the pack, and so on. Do you think that would work?”

“We could try it, see how it goes,” Harry replied with a slight shrug, “it's weird to think of passing a moon with just one other person for company and not a pack, but you've done it for years so it must not be that bad...”

“I never found a pack where I felt like I truly belonged,” Remus said, “except for—you're much more social than I ever was. I had friends, yes, but in general I was _the quiet one._ ”

“Hmm,” Harry intoned, certain that Remus had stopped himself from saying that the Marauders, for all intents and purposes, had been his _true_ pack. Given that Remus had been best friends(and in the case of Sirius, _more_ than friends, Harry remembered) with his father and godfather, Harry couldn't quite work out whether or not he was grateful for Remus cutting himself off when he did. “Well...if you're nervous about seeing the pack again, we could always try doing the first moon together here, alone, to sort of...I dunno, cement our relationship in our wolf forms before we're in front of the pack?”

Remus draped an arm across Harry's chest, and Harry's muscles twitched at the faint tickling sensation as he turned his head a little to look at Remus. The older man's expression was thoughtful following Harry's suggestion, and neither positive or negative.

“Are you sure that's what you want to do?” Remus asked softly, “you've grown accustomed to running on the full moon with a pack around you. Wouldn't being just with me come as something of a shock to your wolf?”

“Probably,” Harry replied honestly as he shrugged, “but I'm more worried about you and Ulrich in the same space without your human rationality present. I don't want either of you to get hurt.”

At the mention of Ulrich's name, Harry felt Remus tense. Harry bit his lip, but did not speak as he watched Remus. His expression seemed to shift from neutral to anguished and back again, though once more the jealousy Harry had expected to see was curiously absent.

“You...you still care about him, don't you?” Remus asked nervously, and Harry was reminded suddenly of something Tavish had said to him months earlier.

 

“ _Dominants aren't the most well-rounded when it comes to self-esteem, and they're constantly paranoid about losing their mates.”_

 

With that in mind, Harry reached up to stroke Remus's cheek, then kissed him lightly in reassurance.

“I care for him in the same way that I care for Tavish, and Hermione, and Ginny, and Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys,” Harry explained, “he's a friend, nothing more. Even when I was with him, I could never love him—not how he loved me. It was you—it's _always_ been you.” Harry kissed him again, a little more deeply this time, and Remus held Harry close, while Harry in turn gripped his dominant just as tightly. When they finally broke apart, Harry whispered, “just in case you're ever wondering who comes first.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Remus purred as he held Harry close, and the pair settled down again. Harry used Remus's shoulder as a pillow while draped an arm across the older man's chest, and Remus held him close. Harry heard a soft sigh of contentment escape the dominant, and he smiled indulgently at Remus's blissful happiness, and how it was he himself, _Harry_ , who had brought it out of him.

Regardless what happened on the full moon, Harry knew without the shadow of a doubt that things were _finally_ beginning to go right, and the dark days were well and truly behind them.

 


	30. Look For Me By Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be October 3rd, and thank you guys for giving me a good giggle. The fact that literally none of you trust me anymore is kind of hilarious to me XD

Chapter Thirty – Look For Me By Moonlight

 

Without anyone saying a word (and thanks to Ulrich's intervention, no more punches to the face either) Harry began to spend all his nights with Remus, and his days back in the territory.

In some ways, it was perfect. Harry got to spend his evenings with his mate, fall asleep in a cocoon of loving warmth, and the scent of Remus on him kept most of the dominants away when he was with the pack.

In other ways, Harry found it terribly lonely. Since his turning, he'd grown accustomed to being surrounded by people, and even though his time with Remus was something very close to bliss, it was still somewhat isolating.

Harry knew that he needed to talk to Remus about this; _discuss_ it like the adults that they were, but picking the right time to do so was proving a little tricky, given that Harry did not want to make Remus feel guilty and force himself back to the territory—a place he'd told Harry repeatedly did not carry pleasant memories for him—and nor did he want Remus to feel as depressed _there_ as Harry at times felt in their little cabin.

Once more they were stuck in the middle, but for the moment, his loneliness was the farthest thing from his mind—the moon had finally come, and Harry was standing outside, alone, watching the sun's slow progression towards the west as the sky steadily darkened above him.

 

It was unseasonably warm for September, and in the dim light of late evening, it felt more like a crisp summer night, rather than the beginning of autumn. The moon was due any minute, and the complete lack of anyone else around was making Harry a little anxious. He wanted his pack, and to be without them during a full moon was turning out to be much more nerve-wracking than he had expected.

In the distance, obscured somewhat by the surrounding forest, Harry could see the form of Remus approaching, and Harry felt himself relax as his mate's scent met his nose.

“All the warding is still in place,” he announced when he was close enough. “No one can get in, and we can't get out.”

“Good,” Harry replied with a small smile, “that's—that's good.”

Remus closed the distance between them, and brushed his fingers along the line of Harry's jaw. Harry leant into the touch, but did not shift his gaze from the older man.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked, and Harry reached for him on instinct rather than rational thought, and he immediately embraced the sub. Harry pressed his cheek to the older man's chest, and heaved a sigh.

“I don't know,” he replied at last, feeling marginally more secure enveloped in Remus's arms, but still a little anxious. “I feel...weird. Lonely but secure, uneasy and content...a mixture of things. I'm glad you're here, but it still feels weird being this close to the moon without a pack around.”

“I know,” Remus murmured, and kissed his temple. “Do you want to call it off? There's still time if you'd rather go back to the pack...”

“No,” Harry replied at once, “we have an agreement. Next moon will be with the pack, we have to split things, that's how relationships are supposed to work...I think.”

“Sorry, Harry, I have this compulsion to spoil you rotten, and I just want to do everything I can to make you happy,” Remus teased, and Harry couldn't help but laugh a little at that.

“That makes two of us,” Harry replied, and got on his toes to kiss him. “Maybe instead of obsessively trying to please the other, we should focus our energy on just enjoying each other's company?”

“Pretty sure we've been doing _plenty_ of that, Harry...” Remus teased, and Harry grinned at him. He definitely wasn't wrong on that count.

Harry felt his skin begin to tingle, and he cast a look towards the darkening sky. He could see the moon beginning to rise, and even before he could see it completely, Harry felt his wolf scrabbling at the edges of his mind, desperate to get out.

“We better get ready,” Remus whispered hoarsely, and Harry nodded before he reluctantly untangled himself from his mate to shed his clothes, Remus taking them from Harry, along with his wand, and stored them inside along with his own.

When Remus returned, Harry immediately bit his lip to stop himself from licking his lips with desire.

This was the first time he'd seen Remus completely naked since their reunion, and the lack of wolfsbane potion in his system had clearly done wonders for the older man's physique.

There was now distinctive muscle definition where before there had been very little at all, and every small movement caused his muscles to tense and flex visibly in his calves and biceps, and the hard line of his abdomen was tense and taut as he braced himself for the change. It was very unlikely he'd ever be as physically strong as Ulrich or Greyback, but compared to how he used to be, the change was significant—and _very_ appealing.

Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and felt a flush rise in his cheeks as Remus's eyes flitted up and down his body in a similar way, as though he was determined to drink in every last detail of the sub's physique.

Harry approached his dominant, and Remus enveloped him in his arms before he caught his lips in a warm kiss.

“One thing that has not changed,” Remus purred against Harry's mouth, “you're still beautiful, Harry.”

Harry buried his face in Remus's chest to hide his embarrassment, and the older man chuckled. He shifted his hold on Harry to cradle his chin, and he forced his gaze back up.

“Don't you believe me?” he asked, and Harry bit his lip again as he glanced away, and Remus released his chin. Automatically, Harry pressed his cheek against the side of Remus's bare chest.

“It's not that,” Harry mumbled bashfully, “I just...I never know how to react when...when people say things like that to me.”

“A simple _thank you_ may be appropriate, assuming you appreciate the compliment.”

“That won't make me self-absorbed?” he asked, and Remus chuckled heartily.

“I don't think you're _capable_ of being self-absorbed, Harry,” Remus replied, and gently coaxed his head up for another kiss, one which Harry was all to happy to return.

“Then...thank you, Remus.”

They kissed again, and Harry shuddered as the moon's rays tickled over their skin. They sank to the ground and Remus held Harry close; they shifted until Harry's back was pressed against Remus's front, and he brushed the back of Harry's neck with warm, encouraging kisses until Harry heard him inhale sharply, and freeze.

He did not need to ask _what_ had sparked the reaction, for Harry could feel it too—the change had come.

Remus let go of Harry, and he fell forward onto shaking limbs. Familiar pain lanced through him and he let out a low groan as his body twisted and reformed itself, his bones crunched and reset, his snout lengthened, and his skin tingled and burned as hair burst from every follicle.

Harry stood at once and shook himself off to let go of the residual feelings of the change, and immediately after, he became aware that he was _not_ in pack territory. However, panic at this turn of events lasted for barely ten seconds, given that strangely, despite the change in locale, it still smelt like home to him.

He looked around with his keen werewolf eyes, and the first thing that he noticed was that he was not alone, but with another wolf.

Large, a mixture of familiar tawny and grey fur, and Harry's heart swelled with excitement at the sight of him—Moony, his _mate_. The dominant seemed to be having a similar experience as his tail rose high in the air, and his mouth opened in a clear wolfish smile.

They rushed at each other, closing the distance and rubbing up against one another joyfully. It was like parching one's thirst after being lost in a desert, and despite the fact that he was in a different place, without his pack, Harry felt no unease whatsoever. This was his _mate_ , and he felt completely safe and protected in his presence.

Moony nuzzled him one last time, then with a gentle, encouraging nudge, he began to lead the sub over to a den that had been dug beneath an aging willow tree. It was small and enclosed, and any passing predator would likely not even notice that it was there. As they passed into the shade of the ancient tree, Harry's nose picked up the acrid smell of a number of scent markers surrounding it, adding yet another level of protection to the space that simple wizard magic would never be able to match.

Moony sat by the den, and cocked his head to the side in silent request. Harry understood immediately—Moony wanted to hunt for a meal for both of them, but at the same time, he did not wish to leave his mate unprotected.

Harry approached the den; he nudged the dry leaves with the tip of his nose as he inspected the small space. It felt safe to him, moreso with the present scent markers. In this form, none of his silly human pride clouded his mind, and he viewed the den and Moony's silent request only as a warm gesture on behalf of his dominant who wanted to keep him safe, and not some misguided assumption that Harry was incapable of fending for himself.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry curled up inside the den, and Moony wagged his tail happily. He moved over to his sub and nudged his muzzle affectionately with his own, then darted off into the black of the wood, so silently that he was like a shadow disappearing from view.

Without Moony nearby, Harry was suddenly aware of how silent the forest truly was. Save for the distant rustle of a nighttime mammal of some kind, or the echoing hoot of an owl, there was no noise at all. Harry fidgeted in his den, comforted by the smell of his mate, but unnerved by the solitude nonetheless. He whined softly, but otherwise did not move, though he kept his gaze fixed upon the thick trees Moony had disappeared into as he impatiently waited for his mate to return.

 

Not twenty minutes later, the silence was suddenly broken by the bleating cry of a dying animal, and Harry thumped his tail against the dead leaves almost unconsciously. He was certain his mate had caught something, a suspicion which was validated not long after when he spotted Moony dragging a small doe from the shadows of the trees.

Harry stood and stretched, then trotted over to where his mate was, and he immediately showed his appreciation for the dominant's kill by tearing into the meal.

Curiously, Moony took a step back as Harry ate, and this small action drew the sub's attention at once. He lifted his head to turn to his mate, and Moony responded with a simple, encouraging nudge against Harry's hindquarters, pressing him to eat. Urged on by his hunger, Harry returned to the doe, and it was only after he had finished did Moony touch the carcass.

Full and content, Harry stretched out on his side as he watched Moony eat. The dominant snapped up everything that Harry had missed, completely stripping the carcass clean before he lay down next to his sub. Moony snuggled up so close that he seemed to mould to the shape of Harry's body, and the sub was almost swallowed up by the dominant's thick, warm fur. Harry sat up as Moony curled up around him, and he arched up to lick the blood from the dominant's muzzle, an action that Moony mirrored once Harry had finished grooming him.

Warm, full, and content, Harry curled up into a small white ball, and Moony wrapped himself around his sub protectively once more. Harry let out a soft, relaxed sigh, and his ear twitched when Moony licked the edge of it. They rested, and when Harry no longer felt almost uncomfortably full he stood up and stretched. Moony cocked his head to the side as he regarded him, while Harry bowed forward, tail high and wagging. His body language was perfectly clear as he gazed at his mate— _play with me._

It only seemed to just begin to dawn on Moony what Harry wanted when the sub turned and took off into the forest.

Harry heard Moony scramble to his feet to gave chase, and he felt a thrill of excitement rush through him as he darted between thick trees and under felled logs, choosing paths that Moony would struggle to follow in a straight line, given their significant differences in size.

He curved along the barricade of the warding, and when he could no longer smell Moony, he let out several high, teasing yips, before he darted off again. He heard Moony howl—his mate calling out for him. Harry ignored it, and slipped farther into the depths of the wood.

Harry paused by a babbling brook for a drink, and in that instant he realized that his mate had never once lost track of him. He looked up after his drink to get his bearings before hurrying off again, only to yelp in surprise when he saw Moony leaping over the brook, and straight at him.

Moony bowled Harry over easily, and stood over his sub, his chest heaving as he panted hard. Harry lay on his back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. Moony nuzzled him affectionately, and Harry arched up to return the gesture.

Harry rolled onto his side, still more than a little tired from the run, and Moony urged him to his feet. Harry whined in protest, and flopped down on the ground dramatically, but Moony was not having it. He nudged Harry to his feet again, and gently shepherded him away from the brook and to a more secluded copse of trees, where Harry stretched out again.

Moony lay down partially on top of him, and the position was both one of claim and protection. As they lay there, Moony tended to his sub diligently; he nuzzled him and licked his ears affectionately, until his complete relaxation from the gentle touches, paired with his exhaustion from the run finally lulled Harry to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Harry woke the next morning feeling terribly groggy, but also distinctly aware of a soft, tickling sensation against his chest. He blinked slowly, bemusedly, and glanced down to see Remus's fingertips trailing across his chest lightly. Harry's gaze shifted up to Remus's face, and the older man smiled down at him warmly, albeit tiredly.

“Morning,” he said, and leant in for a kiss. Harry sat up a little to return it, and lifted a hand to stroke Remus's cheek affectionately.

“Morning,” Harry replied as he grinned up at him. “What time is it?”

“No idea,” Remus answered, and leant in to kiss Harry again. Harry laughed, amused by Remus's complete disinterest in anything but snogging, like some sort of overgrown teenager. Harry was quite happy to indulge him, but there was also a distinctive downside to laying outside starkers in September, which made itself known when Harry shivered suddenly from cold.

“Remus,” Harry whispered hoarsely, “as much as I'm enjoying this, I'd kind of like to go and get some clothes on...”

“Cold?” Remus asked, and immediately moved to rub his palm across one of Harry's exposed arms.

“A bit,” Harry replied as he pressed himself against Remus's hand in an effort to warm up.

“All right,” he said, his voice hinting at his disappointment that he had to stop his morning cuddle with his mate, “let's go home and get you warmed up.”

Harry sat up, and he saw Remus move as though to scoop him up. Before Harry could protest however, he watched in quiet amazement as Remus froze, stood, and offered Harry his hand.

Struck dumb with shock that Remus actually _resisted_ the urge to pick him up—something Remus had known for ages that Harry disliked, it took him a moment to work through his surprise enough to respond to the hand extended to him.

Remus helped him up, and with their fingers lazily tangled together, they wove through the trees and back towards the cabin. Given that the warding was still in place, Harry wasn't concerned that they might run into anyone else in this part of the forest. As they walked, Harry could not help but feel a sense of awe towards his mate. All around them, every direction looked to be the same to Harry, but Remus moved with purpose, as though he'd taken this path a dozen times before. Harry was happy to follow his lead, and leant against his side as they made the trek back to the cabin. Remus chuckled and untangled his fingers from Harry's to wrap an arm around his waist, which Harry mirrored, and they walked arm-in-arm all the way back to the cabin.

 

Inside, they took turns showering, got dressed, and Harry followed Remus to the kitchen to watch him prepare breakfast. Harry did try to offer his assistance, but Remus would only laugh, and pause what he was doing long enough to offer the sub a kiss, before he turned back to the cooker. Harry smiled indulgently, and leant back against the kitchen table to watch him work in silence. It was so familiar, so comforting, and it brought Harry right back to the days before all the trouble had started. It was a wonderful feeling.

Once everything was ready, Harry helped Remus transport the platters of food over to the table with his wand, then sat adjacent to his mate as they each filled their plates and teacups.

“Do you need to rush out if here today?” Remus asked conversationally as he hooked his ankle around Harry's under the table. Harry could hear the note of hope in his voice, and he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning too broadly at his partner.

“Day after the full moon is always a day of rest, so I can stay here pretty much all day,” Harry replied, then nibbled at his bottom lip as he regarded Remus. “that is, if you want me here.”

“I _always_ want you here, Harry,” Remus replied at once, and Harry felt his face grow warm as Remus chuckled and leant across the table to offer him another light kiss.

“You're kind of a cornball, are you aware of that?” Harry teased, and Remus answered simply by offering him a disarming smile.

 

Both Harry and Remus were a little worn out by the moon from the night before, in particular from their impromptu run, and they spent the day happily doing nothing at all.

They took leisurely walks in the woods near to the cottage; they rested by the fire with cups of tea; and they grazed on an endless stream of fancy tidbits Remus had made in advance, and 'just so happened' to have lying around.

It had been a perfect day, and as evening closed in, Harry found himself stretched out comfortably on Remus's sofa, with his head was perched against the older man's thigh, and Remus's nimble fingers were buried in his hair, stroking the unruly locks idly while he read. Harry was dozing, and the soft crackle of the fire in the grate added to the warm, cozy atmosphere as the dark swallowed the forest outside, and rain began to dot the window and drum against the roof with a relaxing _tap-tap-tap_.

“What are you reading?” Harry asked suddenly, balanced somewhere between sleep and waking. Remus glanced down, apparently unaware that Harry had been awake, and smiled at him once before he turned his attention back to the thin novel in his hands.

“ _Call of the Wild_ ,” Remus replied, and Harry just barely managed to bite back a laugh. _Of course._

“Is it any good?” Harry asked, and he saw Remus's mouth twitch into a small, nostalgic smile.

“I used to read it a lot as a child. It was always a favourite of mine. My mother was determined I not grow up in just muggle or wizarding culture—she always made sure that there was a balance.”

“I never read it,” Harry said, though he grimaced as he spoke, given that it was probably obvious that he wasn't really a big reader—unless one counted the few hundred times he'd read _Flying With the Cannons_.

“Well,” Remus began, and Harry watched him flip back to the first page. “Are you comfortable?”

“What?”

“Was that a particularly difficult question, Harry?” Remus teased, and Harry laughed.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Why?”

“I think it's a story you'll enjoy, so, I'll ask you again— _are you comfortable?_ ”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Harry repeated with another short laugh and nod, finally understanding what Remus was getting at. In truth, he wasn't particularly interested in some old muggle novel, but after he saw the way Remus's eyes lit up at the prospect of sharing something that he enjoyed with his partner, there was no way that Harry could have refused.

“Good, then we'll begin,” Remus replied, and cleared his throat once before he began to read.

 

“ _Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tidewater dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland..._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Call of the Wild excerpt by Jack London, Aerie Books Ltd 1986 massmarket edition.


	31. To Be Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oooh, we're almost there, just 10 chapters and the epilogue to go! Next update will be October 5th. This is probably one of my favourite chapters in the whole fic, so I hope you guys enjoy it :)

Chapter Thirty-One – To Be Loved

 

As the weeks passed and September gave way to October, Harry and Remus fell into a comfortable routine.

The couple would wake in the mornings and breakfast together, then Harry would head off to the pack for the day, and Remus would go to the Ministry. In the evenings, they'd meet back up at the cottage for dinner, and spend the night together.

Of course, this arrangement was not without its problems.

In spending his time at the pack's territory without Remus around, even _with_ his scent clinging to Harry like a heavy perfume, it had not deterred overly keen dominants from trying their luck with him. Many of them had not learned from his altercation with Silas to not try anything, nor did they learn their lesson when Harry would respond to their advances in true werewolf fashion—with violence.

Harry was more than a little proud of this fact; he was quite certain that at least four or five doms were now waddling around the territory with ice packs affixed to their bollocks as they radiated embarrassment for allowing _a sub_ to get the better of them. More amusing still was both Ulrich and Greyback's complete and total lack of sympathy towards the doms when it happened.

 

“He said no, and you didn't listen,” Harry had heard Greyback reply gruffly on more than one occasion. “You have no one to blame but yourself. Get back to work.”

The whining dominant would then hobble off, muttering obscenities under their breath as they went.

 

The only upside to this was the fact that it drove Remus to re-stake his claim on Harry in the most delightful of ways, usually in the form of snogging Harry senseless against their front door. More than once it came very close to _more_ than that, but both of them were wary of having sex too soon. After all that had happened between them, both Harry and Remus were equally petrified of mucking things up, which led to them being more than a little over-cautious where their personal lives were concerned.

And with another full moon on its way, that made things _extra_ complicated.

 

Harry arrived home with a scowl on his face late one evening, and when he saw Remus standing at the door waiting for him, he did not hesitate to hurry forward and roughly grab the front of his cardigan to drag him into a kiss.

Startled by Harry's actions, Remus let out a small squawk of surprise when the sub pulled him into the kiss. It was quelled almost at once however as his arms fell to Harry's waist to draw him closer.

“Well, I suppose it's safe to say that you're happy to be home,” Remus remarked, and arched a brow at him as they broke the kiss. Harry smiled, and arched up to kiss him again.

“Happy to be somewhere where I won't get manhandled by dominants who think I'm _on the market_ , more like,” Harry replied as he wrinkled his nose a little. At the same time, Remus bowed his head forward, and began to brush Harry's jaw and throat with feather-light kisses, the gentle touch making him shiver with desire.

“And how do you know _I_ won't manhandle you?” Remus teased, one of his hands dropping to Harry's arse, and a wide grin spread across Harry's face as he pressed back into the intimate touch.

“Oh, I definitely wouldn't mind if _you_ manhandled me,” Harry clarified, “I just don't want dominants I don't know doing it.”

“Hmm, good news for me...” Remus shifted in order to kiss Harry properly, and Harry happily returned it, his hands moving to bury themselves in Remus's hair as they snogged like a pair of teenagers, the impending full moon dictating their actions much more than their common sense at the moment.

Harry's stomach gave a sudden, audible gurgle, and he felt himself go very red as Remus chuckled.

“Hungry, are we?”

“I might be a little peckish...” Harry mumbled, and let out a small groan of longing as Remus stepped back and rested a hand against his spine.

“Come on,” he said, “allow me the honour of feeding you, then we can resume this delightful... _conversation._ ”

Grinning, Harry allowed himself to be led inside.

 

After being subject to Remus's fantastic cooking, they retired to the sitting room and curled up together as they nursed cups of tea. Harry was feeling almost uncomfortably full after their rich meal, and as they both relaxed, Harry's thoughts turned to the impending moon.

“Remus?” Harry asked hesitantly, and felt strangely as though he'd been put under a spotlight when Remus cast his gaze towards him.

“Hmm?”

“Erm...what...I mean, d'you—d'you think that if Ulrich picks a fight with you under the moon...what'll happen?” Harry grimaced at the awkward phrasing, and tried again when Remus's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I mean, the first moon you had with us you sort of...went after Ulrich and lost. Ulrich told me about how if you'd won, you would've been free to court me. What if the reverse happens?”

Harry did not miss the way Remus's arm tensed around him, or the way his lip twitched, as though it longed to curl back in a snarl every time Harry said Ulrich's name. Harry pressed his lips together, uncertain how to react. He wanted to maintain a friendship with Ulrich, but now, he began to wonder if that would even be possible, with the two dominants being so jealous at the mere _mention_ of the other.

Remus's arm coiled more securely around Harry, and he did not speak for a long moment. He set aside his half-empty teacup with a heavy sigh, and propped his chin against the top of Harry's head, in what felt like a semi-unconscious display of claim, despite the fact that they were alone. He coiled his other arm around Harry's waist, and held him close.

“Honestly, Harry, I have no idea,” Remus replied, and heaved another small sigh. “It's one of those times where I wish I knew more about werewolf pack culture, and had not fought so hard against it in my youth. I think it's entirely possible that he may confront me over you, and though I have no intention to fight with him, in our wolf states, I may have no choice.”

“I hate being fought over like...like a toy, or a piece of meat, or something...” Harry mumbled, and Remus squeezed him gently.

“I know that you do, and I'm sorry that you have to get stuck in between us like this,” Remus replied softly, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I'll do what I can to avoid a confrontation, but I can't make any promises.”

Harry shifted, and Remus loosened his grip as though to let him go, but a look of surprise crossed his face when Harry moved to perch in his lap after he set his teacup down next to Remus's.

He leant in and kissed Remus soundly. Harry felt the older man tremble beneath him, and shifted to adjust his grip, holding Harry close, firmly, but tenderly, as though afraid that he might suddenly vanish into thin air.

“I'm so proud of you,” Harry whispered as he pulled back for a breath, and kissed him again.

“Why—why are you proud of me?” Remus asked softly, pausing in their feverish snogging to look up at Harry with the now-familiar look of reverence upon his face. Harry felt the colour rise in his cheeks as he looked back at him, but he smiled as he reached down to brush his fingertips along Remus's cheek.

“You're just...you've changed so much since... _that day_ , you know, when everything started. From good to...well, _bad_ , and back to good again. And it wasn't a completely selfish reason that made you fix yourself, you saw that you did wrong, and you made yourself change. Most people don't like to acknowledge their faults like that, but you did.”

“I was ashamed of who I had become,” Remus admitted as he bowed his head a little, “I no longer recognized myself. Who I had been and who I was...it was like looking at two different people. Looking back, I'm almost glad that you left me. It was painful, yes, but it would have been worse if we had stayed together. Likely, I would have gotten worse, not seeing what I was doing as wrong or hurtful. Your strength saved me, Harry.”

Overwhelmed and at a loss for what to say, Harry leant forward and kissed him. Remus returned it, and Harry shivered with longing.

“Don't sell yourself short,” Harry replied between kisses, “you saved _yourself_. You could have easily just spiralled into this...I dunno, this desperate sort of _need_ for me, and then things would be even more fucked up. Instead, you took a step back, and you did the _right thing_. Maybe it took you a little while to get there, but in the end, you _did,_ and that's what counts.”

Remus beamed at him, visibly overwhelmed with the sentiment, and he pulled Harry in for another warm, impassioned kiss.

“Remus...” Harry whispered his name as he pulled back, their lips clinging together a little from their intense kissing, and it seemed to take a moment for it to register with Remus that Harry had spoken.

“Yes, Harry?” he queried, and Harry bit his lip.

 

_Could he say it?_

_Was it time?_

 

Harry took a small breath to steady himself, and took the proverbial plunge.

“Will you...I mean, er...” Harry felt his face flood with colour as he forced himself to continue. “Would you...make love to me?”

Remus's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but it was quickly replaced by a warm, joyous smile.

“I would be honoured to make love to you,” Remus murmured as he leant forward to peck Harry's lips in a small kiss. “I must first ask however what about that request is causing you to turn such a charming shade of red,” Remus remarked, and Harry laughed a little, though his flush was slow to fade.

“It's just...it sounds so... _corny_. Like something out of a romance novel,” Harry admitted as he looked away from him. “I mean, _fuck me_ sounds too crass for what I want, and _have sex with me_ too clinical, so I—”

Remus cut off Harry's rambling explanation with a kiss, and Harry immediately wrapped his arms more securely around Remus's neck as he returned it, their lips parting and their tongues twining together immediately, and Harry shivered as he felt Remus's fingers snake upwards to tangle in his hair.

“Oh, Harry...” Remus murmured as they broke apart, “it feels like _years_ since we last did this. Let's do it right, shall we? Come on, up you get.”

Harry let out a small, discontented whine as he untangled himself from Remus and stood up, closely followed by his dominant.

Hand in hand, they hastened to the bedroom, teacups forgotten.

After they crossed into the tiny space, Harry made a beeline for the bed, but Remus stopped him in the centre of the room. Harry turned to him, eyebrow arched in question, while Remus reached out to brush his hand against Harry's cheek, before he leant in for a light kiss.

“Let me do this properly,” Remus murmured against Harry's mouth, “let me worship you.”

Harry felt the colour begin to rise in his cheeks again, and he could not manage anything more than a small, meek nod. Remus smiled, and kissed him.

The kisses were sweet and tender, with just enough heat to make Harry feel weak in the knees. Remus's hands trailed slowly down to the hem of Harry's jumper, and with the same snail's pace, he peeled the garment off.

Harry lifted his arms to help him along, and after the jumper had been discarded, his fingers immediately fell to the buttons on Remus's cardigan. Gently, Remus pried Harry's hand away while he offered him a warm smile, and shed the article for him.

Remus closed the distance between them again, his lips falling on the corner of Harry's mouth, his stubble tickling his cheek as he trailed light kisses along the sub's jaw and down his throat. He stopped just above Harry's pulse point, where he nipped and suckled at the flesh, just hard enough to indicate to Harry that there would be a mark there in the morning, but he didn't care.

On the contrary, Harry found himself getting excited by the idea of being marked up by his mate. _Everyone_ would finally know that he was taken, and there would be absolutely no more room for debate amongst the pack dominants who seemed incapable of taking a hint.

Remus relieved Harry of the T-shirt that he'd been wearing beneath the jumper, and Harry returned the favour, moving to unbutton the shirt Remus was wearing. Again, his hands were removed, and Remus did it for him.

“I want tonight to be about you,” Remus explained gently, “I want...I want to deserve you.”

“Remus,” Harry said, a lump forming in his throat at the words, and he bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to control his raging emotions, “you already deserve me.”

“Oh, Harry,” he replied with a chuckle, “ _if only_.”

He shed the shirt, and Harry unabashedly drank in the sight of Remus's chest littered with scars, with a fair trail of hairs going from his navel to the top of his corduroy trousers. To Harry, everything about the sight of Remus was simply _beautiful_.

Remus took Harry by his hands and led him to the bed. Harry followed his lead sat down on the edge, not completely certain what the older man was up to, and shivered a little when Remus knelt between his thighs and began to bestow more kisses upon his chest, leaving a trail of tender love bites in his wake.

This action felt strangely familiar to Harry. A distant foggy memory threatened to surface at the back of his mind— _the incident—_ but miraculously, despite the parallels between the two scenarios, Harry found no anguish in this present act. Harry pushed the memory away.

Remus tended to him slowly, pausing to press a kiss upon every scar that he saw, and Harry felt as though his heart may burst out of his chest from the experience. It was so overwhelming, this love that he felt, but in the _best_ possible way.

The dominant paused to tend to Harry's nipples, teasing the tiny, blushing buds with his tongue and teeth, causing Harry to keen with desire and arch his back in an obvious hint. Remus did not spend long on them, nor did he stop to remark on Harry's reaction, but instead continued his trek down his chest, across his abdomen, and stopped only when he reached the waistband of Harry's jeans. He looked up.

“May I?” he asked softly as he pressed a hand against the short trail of buttons, and Harry almost moaned aloud.

“Yes,” Harry replied at once, and Remus chuckled as he flicked open the buttons one by one, then hooked his fingers through both the waistband of his jeans and pants to pull both garments off at the same time.

Harry lifted himself off the bed to help Remus along, and felt himself flush again when Remus even peeled off his socks for him. He knew Remus wanted to do it, this _worshipping_ thing that he seemed so keen on, but Harry had to admit that it _did_ feel a little strange.

He jumped a little in surprise when Remus cradled his right foot in his hands, and the limb twitched when he kissed the top of it.

“Remus—don't—my feet probably stink...” Harry protested weakly, and Remus paused what he was doing, and leant up to kiss him, a reverberating chuckle running through the older man as he did so.

“Nonsense, you're beautiful,” he murmured, and Harry felt his face colour again.

“ _Beauty_ and _body odour_ aren't exactly parallel, you know,” he replied, and Remus chuckled again, but did not respond as he went back to what he was doing. He skipped over Harry's feet this time as he ran his hands over the backs of Harry's calves, making them twitch from the gentle, tickling touch. Slowly, he kissed his way up the limbs and over his thighs, until he finally reached Harry's straining erection.

A bead of precum clung to the tip of his cock, and Harry shivered as Remus ran his hands so lightly over it that it felt like the ghost of a touch. Harry keened a little as he arched his hips, and Remus happily obliged to his silent request.

Remus's hot, wet mouth closed over the tip of his cock, and Harry's eyes rolled up in his head as he let out a moan. It grew in volume when one of the hands that was idly resting against Harry's thigh moved to play with his balls while Remus slowly swallowed him to the root, his throat convulsing ever so slightly around the organ.

“Remus...” Harry moaned, “s-so good...”

Remus did not stop to respond, but kept moving, bobbing his head and caressing the underside of Harry's cock with his tongue, sending the sub into an obscuring fog of pleasure.

When Harry found his climax, his head seemed to pound as he choked out a cry, his vision went momentarily white, and nothing existed for him but that solitary moment of pleasure. He groaned and trembled, and never in his life could he recall feeling an orgasm this intense or all-encompassing.

As the world slowly filtered back to him, Harry collapsed, boneless, onto the bed.

Remus, licking his lips in an exaggerated manner like a cat with a bowl of cream, moved up to join him. The couple shifted until they were lying on the bed properly, with Harry's head pillowed on Remus's bicep while the older man stroked his hair as he came down from his orgasmic high.

“That was... _amazing_ ,” Harry breathed, still panting a little, “but...you didn't get off...”

“Tonight was about you,” Remus murmured, and leant in to press a kiss against his temple. “I wanted to do as you asked, and make love to you. You're young, I'm quite certain you'll be up for another round before long, and then I'll truly do as you requested, and _make love_ to you.”

Harry felt his flush rise again at the wording, still mildly embarrassed that he'd actually said such a thing. In contrast, Remus did not seem to share his embarrassment as he lay there, gazing at Harry as though he were some sort of artistic masterpiece, apparently quite content to take his time tonight, and wring Harry dry in the process—in the _best_ possible way.

Remus's hand was splayed across Harry's chest as they lay there, not really speaking, but basking in the afterglow, and in that time Remus's considerable bulge in his trousers did not dim at all. As Harry lay there, occasionally sharing a light kiss with Remus, he felt an inexplicable urge to weep, though he couldn't fathom what had sparked the reaction.

When Harry next arched up to kiss Remus, he understood.

It was joy.

_This_ was what he was supposed to feel.

He had found it— _finally_.

Harry reached up to brush his hand across Remus's cheek. The light stubble tickled Harry's palm, and gently, he coaxed Remus into a kiss.

“I love you, Remus,” Harry said softly, and Remus beamed down at him.

“I love you too, Harry, so...so much.”

Remus kissed him again, more insistently this time, and Harry relaxed against the bed as the older man took control of the kiss.

It was leaps and bounds different from how he would have assumed control before. Harry could all but taste the difference, and the submissive wolf part of his mind revelled in it. It was gentle and tender, not forceful, and the dominance he exuded made Harry feel safe and taken care of, not forced or otherwise manipulated.

Harry moaned when one of Remus's hands trailed down his front and began to stroke his cock. He arched into the touch, and it did not take much for Harry's arousal to rekindle itself, and soon he was at full mast again.

“Please,” Harry murmured, and reached for Remus, “please, I want to see you...” he tugged insistently upon the waistband of Remus's trousers, and the older man chuckled a little at Harry.

“Then see me,” Remus murmured, and both of them smiled warmly in memory. At last, thoughts of his past with Remus no longer hurt.

Harry could not properly reach Remus's trousers from where he lay, but the older man made up for this by tugging the garment down, exposing himself to Harry fully. Harry felt a swell of both arousal and affection for him as Remus tossed the last article of clothing aside. He then leant back up to kiss Harry once before he reached for the bedside table, and opened the drawer to extract a small jar of lubricant.

Harry bit his lip as he lay there, watching as Remus unscrewed the lid, dipped his fingers in, and then looked back up at Harry with a small smile. He rubbed the substance between his fingers, and Harry shifted his position upon the bed, and opened his legs to expose himself to his dominant completely.

Remus did not wait, and immediately moved forward to brush his fingers over Harry's exposed arsehole, and the sub tensed.

“Do you want me to stop?” Remus asked as he froze his movements, and Harry laughed out loud.

“No, no way,” he said quickly, “it's just that the lube is cold...”

“It'll heat up, don't worry,” Remus replied with a soft chuckle, and arched up to kiss Harry once before he went back to what he was doing.

Remus circled Harry's hole with his fingers, spreading out the lubricant as he went, then very slowly he breached Harry's entrance with a single finger, eliciting a soft groan from the younger man.

Remus chuckled again, this time Harry supposed it was in relation to how receptive he was to a single finger being inserted into his arse. Remus was quick to add a second, and thrust them in and out at an almost infuriatingly slow pace, while Harry rocked his hips in time with Remus's gentle thrusts.

When Remus deemed Harry sufficiently prepared, he removed his fingers and spelled them clean before he slicked up his own cock and gently took hold of Harry's thighs. Harry followed his lead and wrapped his legs around his dominant's waist, his ankles locking together at the base of Remus's spine.

Remus positioned himself, and very slowly slid into him. Harry's back arched as he let out another groan of pleasure at the sensation. To Harry, it felt like it went well beyond the simple act of sex, their actions spurred onward by the impending moon's influence over them, and onto something greater. As Remus fully sheathed himself inside of him, Harry had never in his life felt so complete. He blinked back joyous tears, and pulled Remus down for a kiss, which his dominant happily returned.

Their mouths still locked together, Remus began to move.

His hands tightly gripped Harry's hips in order to keep himself balanced, and Harry moved in tandem with him without effort, like two parts of a well-oiled machine. Soft keens of pleasure escaped from Harry, and small grunts from Remus were the only sounds that permeated the silence. They both moved forward to kiss in perfect sync, their breath tickling each other's lips, almost as though reading the other's mind as to what they needed in that exact moment, and laughed softly before their mouths sealed together.

Remus groaned one final time, and buried his face in the hollow of Harry's throat, biting the flesh he found there, though not hard enough to break the skin. At the same instance, Harry felt his arse fill with Remus's hot seed, and he moaned, arching up to rub his own cock against Remus's abdomen. Remus got the hint and stroked him to orgasm, and for the second time that evening, Harry came with a short cry.

The pair were frozen, locked together in their post-coital bliss, panting hard as they came down from their respective orgasms. Harry once more felt that blinding, perfect moment of pleasure, and as the world slowly came back to them, he felt Remus's softening cock slide from his arse, and Remus grabbed his wand from his discarded trousers to clean them up of their respective messes before he set it aside, lay next to Harry, and drew him close.

Harry rolled over into the embrace and pressed his cheek to Remus's chest, his eyes shut.

“How do you feel?” Remus asked in a voice just barely above a whisper, and Harry smiled.

“Perfect. I feel...this was perfect,” he repeated the word, and he couldn't stop smiling. Looking back, Harry could feel as though nothing was out of place. Nothing was missing, and he did not feel simply content; he felt sated, he felt perfect, and he felt as though everything was as it should be. “Thank you, Remus.”

Harry opened his eyes at last and looked up at Remus, and found the older man beaming down at him. He shifted up for a gentle kiss, and a warmth spread through his chest at the simple contact. “And you?”

“I feel as though...everything about this was so... _right_ ,” Remus replied, his hold on Harry tightening ever so slightly, and he pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, just over his scar. “I've never felt so right with someone before you. Everything about this was...” Remus trailed off, and Harry pressed a hand to his chest as he tried to shift closer, despite the fact that he was already more or less squished against Remus's chest. Remus tugged out the duvet from under them, draped it over their naked bodies, and the soft cotton gently clung to their damp skin.

“I think the best part of all this is that when the moon comes...now everyone will know to whom I belong,” Harry murmured, and Remus seemed to start slightly at the phrasing.

“I thought you didn't like being referred to as an object?” he asked, and Harry chuckled softly.

“I don't,” Harry confirmed, and shifted again so that he could look up at Remus comfortably. “But it's you, so I'm willing to make an exception.”

 


	32. To Protect and Defend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be Tuesday, October 10th. Happy Thanksgiving Weekend! (For us Canadians, anyway)

Chapter Thirty-Two – To Protect and Defend

 

It seemed as though the simple act of being taken to bed by a dominant werewolf accomplished what Harry and Remus's earlier, more tame affections could not, and _at last,_ Harry was being left alone by the dominants of the pack.

It was a wonderful relief to not have to worry constantly about being fondled by a dominant who took a fancy to him when Harry _really_ wanted to be left alone. His heart did twinge however at the heartbroken look that Ulrich tried to hide from him every time they crossed paths.

Harry did his best to not rub Ulrich's nose in it, but given how close to the moon they were, everyone's heightened senses made it difficult to conceal the scent of Remus on his skin. It was confusing for Harry, because Remus made him so _happy_ , and things seemed to be going so _well_ , Harry just wanted to gush and cry from the hilltops in his overwhelming joy.

 

“I'm happy for you, I am,” Tavish had said after Harry regaled his friend with all the details about how things were going with Remus, and he sounded as though he meant it, too. “But...do you think it'll last? You two don't exactly have the best track record.”

“No idea,” Harry replied simply as he leant back against one of the log seats and stretched his legs out against the grass. “A lot of things are different this time. He's working on his domineering issues, so it's not as present, the bond is gone, and he doesn't _want_ to treat me like his possession. But...I'm hopeful. This feels different from before, and I think we can make it work.”

“Well, if you're happy, I'm happy,” Tavish said simply, and offered Harry a small smile. “But...if he hurts you again, I'll cut his bollocks off with a rusty butter knife.”

“Good to know,” Harry said as he barked a laugh, and Tavish offered him one of his trademark mischievous grins.

 

~*~

 

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” Harry asked Remus for what was likely the hundredth time that day, while he reached up to brush a strand of grey hair from his partner's eyes. Remus caught Harry's hand with his as he chuckled, and placed a soft kiss against his palm.

“You stayed here for the last moon, it's only fair that I come to the territory for this moon,” Remus replied simply, and Harry smiled.

“That's not what I asked,” he pointed out, and Remus laughed again.

“I'm sure, Harry,” he said, “I cannot say that I am exactly certain that I am wholly _prepared_ for it, but we'll never get over that hump if we don't try.”

“Fair enough,” Harry replied as he chuckled a little, and arched up to kiss him. He had intended it to be nothing more than a simple peck, but Remus seemed to have other ideas. He coiled one arm around Harry's waist, pulled him flush against him, and rested a hand against Harry's cheek as he pulled him into a warm kiss.

Harry wasn't about to complain, and let out a tiny moan as he pressed himself more firmly against his dominant—his _mate—_ and parted his lips to taste the older man, an action he happily reciprocated.

“If we keep this up, we'll never make it to the territory before sundown...” Harry murmured, and Remus let out a tiny groan of frustration before he kissed Harry one last time and pulled back reluctantly.

“Sorry, Harry, but around the moon...it's hard to resist you,” he replied, and Harry laughed.

“Believe me, the feeling's mutual,” Harry said with a grin, and reached out to take the dominant's hand. “C'mon.”

Harry tugged on his hand, and Remus smiled as he followed the sub's lead out of the boundaries of their warding. He then pulled his hand from Harry's to wrap his arms around the young man's waist, and leant in to kiss him again.

“Why not lead us to the territory by Side-Along Apparition?” Remus suggested, and Harry blinked in confusion at the strange request.

“Can you not remember where it is?” Harry asked, and Remus chuckled softly.

“I remember, I just like the idea of being led by you once in a while, even if it's something as simple as Apparition.”

“Blimey, you really _have_ changed,” Harry breathed, and beamed up at Remus. “I'm really proud of you for that, I hope you know.”

“It's not that big of a deal...” Remus murmured, his cheeks tinting pink as he spoke, and Harry immediately shook his head.

“It's a _very_ big deal, Remus,” Harry replied firmly. “Even a year ago, you commanded my submission in practically every facet of our lives, and now you're...you're _you_ again. You're stronger, confidenter, and you're the man I fell in love with at the start of all this.”

“Confidenter isn't a word,” Remus pointed out, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Harry, I always appreciate your wonderful compliments, I _loooove_ you.” Harry said in a high, false tone, which caused Remus to bark a laugh. “Oh, you're welcome, Remus,” Harry continued in his usual voice, “you know I only speak the truth.”

As he spoke, Remus kept laughing, and pulled Harry back into a close embrace.

“You're ridiculous, Harry,” Remus said as he sobered up, and bowed to kiss him lightly. Harry grinned, and returned the gesture.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, and offered his dominant a warm smile. “Come on, let's go.”

Remus nodded, and tightened his hold on Harry as he led them both to the territory by Side-Along Apparition.

 

~*~

 

The couple reappeared on the edge of the territory, and it took Hermione less than five seconds to spot them and come running over. Harry felt Remus's arms tense around him, but he ignored it—this close to the moon, possessive attitudes would be difficult to control, and he knew that there was only so much he could reasonably expect of Remus at the moment.

As Hermione approached, Harry noticed two things straightaway. The first was that her scent was a little different than usual—not _bad,_ but different. The second, of course, was the very slight but distinctive bump of her pregnancy beginning to show.

Harry beamed at her, and she smiled back as she went in to hug both Harry and Remus in turn.

“Hermione, you look amazing,” Harry said, unable to keep his eyes from her tiny baby bump.

“I don't really _feel_ amazing,” she replied, though she was still smiling brightly.

“Still sick?” Harry asked, and she nodded.

“How far along are you?” Remus asked suddenly.

“Just over twelve weeks,” Hermione replied as the three of them began to approach the main area of the territory. Despite the light tone of their conversation, Harry could feel Remus was stiff as a board next to him. He wrapped an arm around Remus's middle in an attempt to reassure him, but it did not seem to help very much. “Of course, Ron and I have about half a dozen pregnancy books, both wizard and muggle, and they all _say_ that morning sickness is supposed to stop at thirteen weeks, but since a dominant werewolf pregnancy is so rare, we really have no idea what to expect with this.”

“I'm assuming you've been drinking a lot of ginger tea?”

“More than water,” Hermione said with a small nod, and Remus chuckled.

“Try a tea made from cumin,” he suggested, “it is more geared towards curing nausea caused by morning sickness. It may be more helpful.”

“I wish I'd known that twelve weeks ago,” Hermione replied with a small groan, but still smiled gratefully at Remus. “Thank you, I'll try it. You know, that's not in _any_ of my books, how do you know about it?”

“Muggle Herbalism,” he replied simply. “They spoke of it briefly during my Muggle Studies lessons when I was at Hogwarts, and referred to it as _muggle magic_. I went to look into it further, and started offering up muggle remedies of common ailments to my friends and classmates, and Professor Slughorn suddenly believed that I was brilliant at potions.”

“So the only werewolf member of the Slug Club?” Harry teased, and Remus chuckled softly.

“Ah, but I am still a _werewolf_ ,” Remus replied lightly, “it was your father and Sirius who got the invitations, not me.”

“Prejudice at its finest,” Hermione muttered, and Remus nodded a little.

“To be fair, you didn't miss much,” Harry said, “dull parties with dull, pretentious people that Slughorn thought he could use to his advantage.”

“Small comfort,” Remus replied lightly as they reached the bonfire and the three sat down. Harry in between Remus and Hermione, and one of Remus's arms was draped lightly around his waist. “Still...all gone now.”

 

The afternoon progressed, and the trio moved on to lighter topics. Most of their talks revolved around Hermione's pregnancy and how petrified Ron seemed to be of fatherhood. They were left alone by the others, and in Harry's casual glances over the territory he could not see Greyback or Tavish, but when he spotted Adina without either of their company, he assumed that Greyback was re-staking his claim on his male sub quite enthusiastically.

This theory was later verified when the pair reappeared at dinner, Greyback looking the same as ever, but Tavish looked pleasantly dishevelled, with his hair a mess, and his throat flushed with love bites, and his clothing distinctly wrinkled.

“Is it bad that I'm a little jealous of Alpha?” Remus whispered in Harry's ear, and he turned to look up at his dominant with an arched brow.

“You have a crush on Tavish?” Harry teased, “'cause I can always go and knit while you get beaten to a bloody pulp for making a pass at—”

“—no, you twit,” Remus interrupted with a chuckle, and nipped lightly at Harry's earlobe, making him shiver. “I'm jealous that they can wander off and have a shag, and if we do, there's every chance we'll get caught.”

“I can't recall you ever worrying about that before,” Harry remarked, and shifted a little closer to his mate as Remus's hand slipped under the hem of his T-shirt and began to tickle its way up his spine. “In fact, I can remember a few times at the Burrow...”

“One could argue that I was a different man back then, and I'm a little more well-balanced these days...”

“Shame, I don't think I ever had any complaints about semi-public sex...”

“...you two know I can hear you, right?”

Harry and Remus both turned to see Hermione staring at this both, her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised high in the air. It seemed as though she was trying to eye them with a look of disapproval, but it was lost in the pleased expression she bore, clearly happy to see them together like this again.

“Er, sorry?” Harry said, and a smile spread across her face.

“Don't be sorry,” she replied, “I'm happy for you two, I am, but maybe keep the bedroom talk for the _bedroom_ , or at least out of the territory.”

Her eyes flicked to a point left of them, and Harry followed her gaze.

Sitting alone was Ulrich, clearly trying valiantly to _not_ look at the pair of them, but Harry spotted how his eyes darted up every few seconds, and his stomach knotted with guilt.

“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...” Harry mumbled, while Remus tightened an arm around him.

“Don't feel guilty, Harry,” Remus murmured gently, “you've done nothing wrong.”

“But—”

“No,” he interrupted, and Harry frowned up at him. “If you hide away and shield him from us to spare his feelings, you're not doing him any favours. We are sitting here, we're not rubbing his nose in our involvement with one another by some silly public display of affection, nor are we teasing him by sitting close to him and snogging each other senseless. We're not doing anything to make his pain worse.”

“But seeing him alone...” Harry trailed off with a frown. “Maybe I should go talk to him?”

Remus's arm tensed around him again, and he looked as though the tiny suggestion was physically painful to hear. At the same time, Remus seemed to be struggling, warring with himself and the temptation to bar Harry from speaking to another dominant, and the clear desire to _not_ become that controlling, domineering, and abusive person again.

“I'll go talk to him, Harry,” Hermione said suddenly. Remus's arm relaxed around Harry at the suggestion as they both turned to face her.

“You will?” Harry asked, and she smiled at them warmly.

“I still need to invite him to the wedding, so that'll give me something to say, at least. Maybe think about talking to him once the moon is over and everyone's emotions are less riled up.”

“Er, yeah, okay, but—and she's gone.” Harry watched her dart across to where Ulrich was sitting, and he perked up as she talked animatedly with him, then pulled an envelope from the inside of her robes. He appeared startled, but strangely relieved. Privately, Harry wondered if maybe he was worried that _he'd_ sent her over out of pity.

Harry watched them chat for another minute, when suddenly Remus's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Do you regret it?”

Harry blinked, and looked up at him quizzically.

“What're you talking about?”

“Leaving him for me,” Remus explained as he nodded in Ulrich's general direction. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” Harry replied at once with a small shake of his head, “I just regret hurting him. He's a good man, he didn't deserve it.”

Remus's arm tensed around him, but he did not verbally respond. Harry leant against his side with a soft sigh, and prayed that joining the pack for the moon wasn't going to be the disaster that he kept envisioning.

 

~*~

 

After dinner—where Harry watched Hermione put away so much food he was amazed that she didn't explode—he and Remus slipped away for a few quiet moments alone before moonrise.

“Nervous?” Harry asked, while he offered the older man a small, reassuring squeeze around the waist. Remus laughed shakily, and mirrored Harry's light embrace.

“Yes,” he replied, and looked back over to the pack, who were all still milling about and chatting amicably with one another. Harry noted that they were not the only couple who seemed to have slipped off, for he couldn't see Greyback or Adina anywhere, and Tavish was talking animatedly with Ulrich and Hermione. “I...I'm not nervous, so much as I am afraid,” Remus admitted after a moment, and Harry's gaze immediately flicked back to his mate.

“Afraid?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Remus pressed his lips together into a thin line, and his gaze flitted back over to the pack.

“When I was turned, as you know, Alpha did it because he saw _something of the wolf_ in me. Albus stopped him from taking me away from my family, and I grew up viewing myself and other werewolves as dangerous—something to be feared. I didn't know any better, I was a lone— _young—_ wolf, who spent every moon lamenting for a pack. I hated myself for a long time. Even when I was shown that everything I had ever been told about my kind and Alpha was wrong, it was still difficult to let go of that much...hatred.

“Being here, it is symbolic that I can let go and be myself—wholly. When one spends a lifetime being told that that is wrong, it is difficult to actually...do that.” Remus paused, and perched his chin against the top of Harry's head. Under different circumstances, Harry knew that this could be the body language of dominance or claim, but in this instance, Harry could feel the different energy that Remus was exuding—he wanted comfort, not to dominate.

“And then there's the added fact that the last few times you were here, it didn't exactly end well,” Harry pointed out, and Remus let out a small, throaty chuckle.

“You could say that.”

“I hope this time goes better,” Harry said as he pressed his cheek to Remus's chest and tightened his arms around him. “I want to see you believe in yourself...you know?”

“I'd say that now it seems like an achievable goal,” Remus replied as he moved back a little, gently rested his fingers under Harry's chin and tilted his head up to kiss him lightly. “When I'm with you, I feel like I can do anything.”

 

~*~

 

As evening gave way to night, Harry reluctantly let Remus go to join the dominants on the other side of the territory. He did not fail to notice how Remus selected a spot as far from Ulrich as he could manage, and neither man made eye contact with the other, instead choosing to act as though they did not exist. Hermione stood with Ulrich, apparently trying to keep his attention away from Remus, while Harry stepped back to join the subs.

Harry undressed mechanically and handed his clothing to Adina, but never took his eyes off Remus. Across the space, Remus caught his eye and offered him a small, reassuring nod.

The moon crested the sky, Harry let out a low moan as his knees buckled and he fell onto all fours. The familiar pain lanced through him, and his back arched as the change began and the rest of the pack fell away.

Harry let out a low moan as his bones crunched, his skin burned and ached as it stretched to a larger shape, he grew hair from every follicle, and within moments, it was all over.

Harry stood and shook himself like he always did following the change, and Tavish paused long enough to butt his head against Harry's in greeting before the subs began to disperse, and he wove through the wolves to greet his alpha. Harry could see Adina not far behind, both of the alpha's mates approaching him with their tails high in excitement, but their heads bowed respectfully.

Harry turned his attention away from the alpha and his mates, his head tilted high as he sniffed the air and looked for his mate.

Harry glanced over to where most of the dominants were still milling about, and in the sea of grey, black, and white, he spotted a grey and tawny wolf, slightly smaller than the others, but his ears pricked and tail high as Moony's eyes landed found Harry, just as Harry spotted Moony.

The pair darted forward, and they met with an affectionate nuzzle, Harry jumping up enthusiastically to bump his muzzle against Moony's. The dominant wagged his tail, and they circled each other happily. Puppy-like, Harry bowed forward, intent to play, and Moony obliged him.

The rest of the pack seemed to fall away, and Harry was only reminded of their presence when an occasional pup would want to join in on their play. It was quite clear that Moony wanted Harry all to himself however, and always gently nudged the pup back towards the others before he turned his attention back to Harry.

They'd barely been together for a full five minutes when all of Harry's worst fears seemed to converge all at once.

An enraged snarl rent the air, and the pair paused when they saw a much larger wolf tearing towards them. Harry hadn't even time to process what he was seeing when with a yelp he was separated from Moony as the pack's beta forced himself between them.

Ulrich's back was to him, and he snapped and snarled at Moony in a clear message— _stay away_.

Harry growled at the beta, and without concern for himself, he jumped forward to sink his teeth in Ulrich's foreleg. He shook Harry off with a small growl, as easily as though he were nothing larger than a mosquito.

Moony whined, his ears flat against his head, and he was stepping from paw to paw as he gazed from Ulrich to Harry, his expression clear that he did not know what to do. Harry tried to circle Ulrich but he growled and pushed him away from Moony, blatantly ignoring Harry's continued whines and yelps of distress.

Harry tried to worm around Ulrich, but he growled again, snapping at Harry, and moved as though to stand over him in a display of claim.

Harry was not having it.

With a growl, he lifted his forepaw and swiped at Ulrich's muzzle.

He felt his claws break the skin, and Ulrich staggered back with a sharp yelp of surprise. Harry took the opportunity to dart away from him and pressed himself against Moony's side, shaking a little with shock from the ordeal. Moony bumped Harry's muzzle with his own, and licked the sub's ears affectionately. Some of the fear began to dissolve.

Ulrich rounded on them, still agitated and growling, and Harry pressed himself more securely against Moony's side.

The beta charged, and Moony moved in front of Harry to protect him, when the most unlikely thing imaginable occurred right before their very eyes.

Black and silver intercepted the dark grey wolf, and Ulrich skidded to a halt, but not quickly enough as he bowled over, and collided directly with Greyback. The alpha stayed standing, and pressed a huge paw to his throat, his lip curled back in a dangerous snarl. Greyback removed his paw from Ulrich's throat and replaced it with his teeth when the beta would not listen to the command, and only let go when Ulrich finally slumped to the ground in defeat.

The alpha stepped back, releasing Ulrich, and with his head bowed in shame, the beta shuffled away from the three other wolves. Harry watched his progression across the territory, until he stopped under a tree and curled up in a tight ball.

Greyback approached Harry and Moony with a short huff, and inspected his two packmates for injury. Neither of them moved until the alpha seemed satisfied that they had not been hurt, then with a few short barks, he dispersed the curious wolves that had circled them to watch.

When Greyback had left them, Moony circled Harry, doing his own injury check before he nudged Harry's muzzle affectionately again. Harry let out a little huff as he returned the gesture, and they shuffled away from the centre of the territory.

Greyback's sudden howl to assemble the hunting party pulled Moony from his side, which he only did once he was safely nestled amongst the other subs—and Hermione, who could not hunt in her delicate state. Wu Fei took to the task of keeping an eye on the remaining subs, and the black wolf circled the edges of the territory as the other dominants left.

Harry would have liked to lie down and rest until the dominants returned with the night's meal, but the moment the hunting party had disappeared, he was suddenly surrounded by a number of pups, all of them yipping and jumping up, trying to engage him in play.

He huffed and obliged them, while another black wolf—a male sub whom he recognized as Daanish—corralled them and let them play, and they all let out excited barks as they chased the two males. Even Tavish got pulled into the roughhousing, while the others hung back and watched.

The time flew as Harry played, and soon the dominants returned, dragging with them two huge stags, so large in fact that it was almost possible for them to be mistaken for elk.

As one, the subs all got up and moved towards the fresh kills, encircling it and sitting down as the alpha and his mates approached it. The dominants backed off, and Harry thumped his tail softly against the grass when he saw his mate approaching.

Moony bumped his larger head against Harry's, and Harry immediately pressed himself into his dominant's side as he plopped down next to the sub. Harry's stomach gurgled when the scent of blood from the steaming carcass filled the air, and he fidgeted as he waited for Greyback and his mates to finish their meal.

Following them, the beta stepped up for his turn, then at last— _at last_ Harry was allowed to eat.

He moved forward, but stopped abruptly when he realized that Moony hadn't followed him. He paused and looked back, and Moony had not moved. When Harry stopped Moony got up and nudged him encouragingly towards the meal, and at once Harry understood—he was still the omega of the pack, and had to wait his turn.

Harry's ears flattened against his skull as he stepped up to eat, his appetite dimmed somewhat by the absence of his mate at his side. He ate quickly, then dove back into the carcass to rip out a sizable bit of offal—two kidneys, and most of the liver. A sneaky dominant tried to snatch the morsels away, but one warning snap from Harry was enough to get the silvery wolf to back off.

The meat was almost too big to fit in Harry's mouth whole, but he managed it, and carefully carried it back from the meal, and over to Moony, who was lying down and waiting patiently for his turn.

Harry dropped the organs between Moony's front paws, and nudged it closer to his dominant when he did not immediately snap it up.

Moony seemed to be struck dumb with shock at the offering, but after a long moment, he finally ate what his mate had brought him, then stood to nuzzle him in thanks.

Harry returned the affectionate gesture, then flopped down in the grass next to Moony.

Moony lazily groomed his mate as they lay there, then when the last of the pack trickled away from the meal, he stood up, bowed his body as he stretched, then wandered over to pick over the bones.

Harry followed, and sat a few feet away, his ears pricked high as he watched Moony eat a little more—certainly more than usual, given the size of the kill the dominants had brought down—before he rejoined Harry, and side by side they wandered into a more private copse of trees to curl up together and sleep off their full bellies and the excitement the night had brought.

 

~*~

 

Harry woke the following morning pressed securely against Remus's chest, with the older man draped over him like some sort of living blanket.

He groaned softly, and Remus immediately stirred, his eyes flicking open to smile warmly down at his mate.

“Morning,” Remus murmured, and kissed him. Harry happily arched up to return the gesture.

“Morning to you too,” he replied in the same soft tone of voice, then slumped down in the grass with a soft sigh as Remus's hand trailed down his side to give his bum a small squeeze.

“Sleep well?” he asked mildly, his hand still on Harry's arse, and against his better judgment, he rolled over a little to give him better access. Remus immediately took advantage of it, and cupped his buttock in his hand as he massaged it idly.

“More or less,” Harry replied, his answer somewhat lost in the soft groan of pleasure he let out, and pressed himself back against Remus's wicked limb. Suddenly, the memories of the night before came flooding back, and Harry's hand moved to grab Remus's forearm and stop his public fondling, but at the same moment, he stiffened, as though he, too, was recalling the previous night's events.

“What...happened last night?” Harry asked, and he blinked hard, wondering idly if he was misremembering some of the details. “Why did Alpha do that?”

“I think I know,” he replied as he sat up and stretched. Harry winced when he heard the older man's spine crack in a few places. “Let's get some clothes and food, and we can talk about it, all right?”

Harry nodded as he reluctantly got up and stretched, his bones cracking and crunching similarly to Remus's, and they both wandered into the main area of the territory, where the rest of the pack was milling about, some dressed, some not, and after Remus and Harry had pulled on some clothes and snatched up bowls of eggs, meat, and potatoes, they chose a more secluded spot away from the central area of the territory to talk.

“So...” Harry began, and paused to pop a hunk of meat into his mouth. “What happened last night? I remember...I remember Ulrich coming at you, and you refusing to fight him...then him trying to shepherd me away...” he paused and winced, “and I think I scratched him? I've never seen him act like that before.”

“He was in mourning,” Remus replied, his voice a little thick as he ate and spoke at the same time. “You cannot wholly blame him for his actions, he wasn't in complete control. He saw his mate with someone new, and reacted.”

“This conversation feels awfully familiar...” Harry said, his mouth quirking into a small smile, and Remus eyed him quizzically.

“It does?”

“Yeah. Your first moon back with us, when you decided you...er, wanted to make everything up to me, you sort of had a similar reaction to what Ulrich had been like last night, and Ulrich said pretty much the same thing...Moony only saw someone else with his mate, and that it wasn't completely your fault either.” Harry paused to take a bite of egg, “I suppose you two are more alike than different.”

“I'm not sure,” Remus paused to wrap his arm around Harry's shoulders and kiss his temple, “I think he might be a better man than me...”

“It's not a competition,” Harry replied briskly, while he smiled indulgently as he leant into the contact. “You both are good men in your own way.” He paused again, his gaze sweeping over the territory, and his eyes found Greyback, sitting in the centre of everything, with his mates on either side of him. “The only thing I _don't_ really understand is why you wouldn't fight, and why Alpha broke the whole thing up...”

“That's two things,” Remus pointed out, and Harry elbowed him lightly, eliciting a chuckle from the older man. “But I think I know why.”

“All right, professor, why _didn't_ you fight last night?” Harry asked, and he grinned when a slight flush coloured Remus's cheeks.

“Because you didn't want me to,” he replied simply, and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “These days, it's getting easier and easier for my werewolf and human minds to...not exactly combine, but work together, in a way. You said before how us fighting over you bothered you, and so...I didn't.”

Feeling mildly overwhelmed, Harry did not immediately respond, and dropped his gaze to the bowl of food in his lap. As he did so, Remus answered the second question.

“The reason, I think, that Alpha stopped Ulrich was because of you,” he explained, and Harry's gaze immediately snapped up.

“ _Me?_ ” he squeaked, “what did I do?”

“Well...how much do you remember of last night?”

Harry thought back, but even after being a werewolf for a few months, his memories were still shaky at best.

“Er...I remember feeling distressed, I was separated from you, then I remember trying to get away from Ulrich, then I remember Alpha intervening. That's about it.”

“That about sums it up,” Remus replied with a nod, “when I refused to fight, Ulrich went after you, and tried to shepherd you away. You protested and scratched him, but he ignored your rejection and kept trying to usher you away. Unlike other packs, Alpha has always insisted that the subs here not be treated like sex toys, but with respect. You rejected him, and when he ignored this, Alpha cut in. You chose me over Ulrich, and in Ulrich's wolf form, he had less control over his reactions than he normally would have.

“It could have been worse, a _lot_ worse,” Remus continued between bites of meat and potato. “I have case studies at my office of dominant werewolves ripping each other apart over mate claims like this. Some less savoury alphas would even watch these massacres for sport.”

“I'm glad I'm not in one of _those_ packs...” Harry muttered while he leant into Remus's side for comfort. He rested his hand at the back of Harry's neck and played with the little hairs he found there. “Will it happen at the next moon we have here, too?”

“No, it won't,” chimed in a third voice. Male, and intimately familiar. Harry turned, and saw Ulrich approaching them with a set of painful looking claw marks across the bridge of his nose. Knowing that it had been _him_ who had caused these injuries, Harry found himself strangely incapable of looking away from them. Ulrich stopped a respectful distance away, though Harry could still feel the tension radiating off Remus. He shifted a little closer to his mate, and he felt the dominant relax slightly.

“Remus, Harry,” Ulrich nodded to each of them in turn, “I'd just like to apologize for my behaviour last night. I'm grateful Alpha stopped me before I did any real harm to either of you, both physically or emotionally. I hope you can forgive my actions, when I was in my wolf form and I saw someone with my m—with my _former_ mate, I reacted badly, to say the least.”

“I believe when I first arrived here, I had a similar reaction,” Remus replied smoothly, and Harry smiled when he felt the tense arm around him relax a little. “I, too, apologize for that.”

“I suppose this makes us even?”

Remus cocked his head to the side, smiling faintly as he thought it over.

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

“Good,” Harry cut in, “now you two can kiss and make up, and stop playing Tug of War with me.”

Both dominants laughed, and Harry watched in quiet amazement as Remus untangled himself from Harry and stood up. Ulrich stepped closer, and without a single note of animosity in the expressions of either man, they shook hands.

 


	33. Sneaky Subs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be October 12th.

Chapter Thirty-Three– Sneaky Subs

 

The weeks progressed into months, and with every day, every night, and every full moon that passed, Harry was witness to something truly miraculous.

He was _happy_.

No more drama, no more chaos, and most importantly, no more _trouble_.

It would have been completely perfect, save for _one_ thing.

 

“Harry, are you heading out?”

Harry turned at the sound of Tavish's voice, and smiled faintly.

“Yeah, Remus should be home soon,” Harry replied, and Tavish arched a questioning brow at him.

“For all the mentally scarring times you two have been caught groping each other in the woods around here, you don't sound exactly thrilled about seeing him.”

“No, it's not that,” Harry said, and grimaced. “I _love_ Remus, and I _love_ being with him—” Tavish began to mime vomiting onto the ground, but Harry ignored it as he continued, “—I just feel kind of lonely, you know? I don't like being away from the pack at night.”

“Have you talked to your fair beau about this?”

“Not yet,” Harry answered, and winced a little at the withering look that Tavish responded with. “It's not that I don't want to; doing the Secrets and Lies thing caused us nothing but trouble, but Remus does this thing where if I asked for...I dunno, a pet velociraptor or something, he'd go back in time and get me one. I think he's overcompensating a little for all the shit that happened before the bond completely broke...”

“Yeah, just a bit...” Tavish snorted. “I think we all remember that fateful day that you mentioned that you were a bit peckish, and Remus commandeered the kitchens area to whip you up a five-course snack...”

“Yeah, well...” Harry trailed off as he felt himself turn red; that had been _beyond_ embarrassing. “Anyway, I know that he doesn't like the idea of living out here—there are too many bad memories for him, and he's still having a rough time with his self-esteem and stuff. I'm just pretty sure that if I talked about it, he'd immediately agree to it to make me happy, and I don't want him sacrificing his happiness for me like that...”

“What about something less direct?” Tavish asked, and nodded towards the logs near the bonfire. Harry followed him and plopped down.

“How d'you mean?”

“Like...don't just say it outright. Just go about it in a more roundabout way. Maybe say that you're not sure the _doing both_ thing—y'know living in both worlds full-time—would work in the long run, and see what he says. Then on the next moon, we can...manipulate him a little.”

“Do I _want_ to know what that freaky little brain of yours is planning?” Harry asked as he arched a brow, while Tavish laughed out loud.

“Nothing weird, I promise. I just figured I could ask Fenrir to mark one of the empty cabins as claimed, and we can spruce it up a little...”

“And I can _casually_ complain that I'm too tired to Apparate, and suggest we crash in aforementioned cabin?” Harry filled in, and Tavish grinned.

“You read my mind, mate.”

 

~*~

 

When Harry at last arrived home, he spied Remus by the window, clearly waiting for him. He warmed a little at the sight of the older man, and hurried to the door.

“You're late,” Remus remarked after they shared a kiss in greeting. “Everything all right?”

“Fine,” Harry replied, and quickly changed the subject when he noticed Remus's look of suspicion at his quick response. “What's on? It smells fantastic in here.”

“Goulash and potatoes,” Remus answered, though continued to eye him oddly. Thankfully, he didn't press Harry again. “Before we eat, I want to show you something.”

“Is this something bad that will send us into a marital tailspin again?” Harry asked mildly, and Remus snorted.

“I sincerely hope not,” he replied, “come on.”

Without another word, he took Harry's hand, and led him over to the kitchen table where a worn, partially unrolled scroll of parchment lay.

“What's this?” Harry asked, but without an explanation, Remus pushed it over to him.

“Look and see, it was here when I got home.”

Harry obeyed, and nervously picked the letter up. As he read who the letter was from, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

 

_Lupin,_

 

_With the loss of the traitor, Bryce, I am in need of someone to fill his position as one of the pack sentries._

_You and I both know that you aren't fit for the position of omega, and since your last visit to us, Silas has been demoted to that particular role; one altercation too many with the pack subs._

_It is yours if you want it, but you would be obligated to stay in the territory with us if you choose to accept it, given the kind of position it is._

_You are still welcome to join us on the full moons if you decline._

 

_Alpha_

 

“What do you think?” Remus asked as Harry looked up from the letter, and handed it back to him.

“What do _you_ think?” Harry countered, his tone neutral as he tried to hide his hopefulness. To have Remus with him in the territory full-time would be too wonderful for words, but at the same time, he did not want to do anything that might guilt Remus into accepting the job _._

“I don't know...” Remus heaved a sigh and dragged his fingers roughly through his hair. “I have my job at the Ministry, which I really do enjoy, and my home is here, with you. To be honest, I'm not really certain I'm cut out to be a sentry...it reminds me too much of the war.”

“Then you have your answer,” Harry said, and reached across the table for his hand. He forced a small smile through his disappointment. “I think having you with me in the territory would be _brilliant_ , but you have to decide for you, not me. If you wanted to do something else there...I could always use a second pair of hands in teaching the kids...a bunch of the older ones want to start a Duelling Club. I could ask Alpha if you could do that with me instead.”

Remus's eyes seemed to glint at the lure of teaching.

“I'll...think about it, Harry,” he replied uncertainly, and Harry offered him a small smile.

 

Harry tried to not get too hopeful about Remus's promise, but he couldn't help feeling a little giddy at the idea of teaching with Remus at his side.

_I'd make him take the Defence lessons,_ Harry thought as he lay in bed the following morning, Remus still fast asleep next to him. _He loved that job, and I think he'd enjoy teaching it again. Hermione could probably help us find a Boggart, and a Grindylow, and a Red Cap..._

Remus stirred next to him, drawing Harry from his daydreams, and as his amber eyes slowly flickered open. At the sight of Harry, his drowsy, half asleep expression shifted to a small smile.

“Morning,” he said groggily, and instead of actually getting up, he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and tugged him closer.

“Morning to you too,” Harry replied with a small laugh as he pressed up against his mate. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” Remus affirmed, while he buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck and began to plant soft kisses on the flesh he found there. Remus's morning stubble tickled his skin, and Harry lifted his shoulders instinctively to try and pull away from him halfheartedly. The dominant chuckled, and tugged Harry back to him.

“Stop,” Harry begged with a small laugh, “tickles.”

“Hmm...good tickle, or bad tickle?”

Remus moved his kisses from Harry's neck to his collarbone, and he laughed again as the older man deliberately allowed his stubble to skitter across Harry's exposed skin.

“Still not sure...” Harry replied, and his breath hitched as Remus's mouth dropped to his nipple and nipped at it lightly. “Remus...” he keened, and shuddered as Remus's hand pressed to the centre of his sternum, slowly snaked its way down his abdomen, and slipped under the duvet.

Remus kissed him; Harry reached up to hold him close and draw it out. The older man's hand curled around his morning wood, and he arched into the touch with a soft, pleading whimper.

“I love how responsive you always are,” Remus purred as he began to stroke him, and Harry shivered at the feeling of the careworn hand against the soft skin of his cock. “The lightest touch, and you're like clay in my hands...”

“That's not me being sensitive,” Harry breathed, his hips twitching again as Remus gave his cock a gentle squeeze, “you're just _really_ good with your hands.”

“Is that a fact?” Remus asked as he arched a brow, and resumed stroking him. Harry moaned, his breath ragged, and he nodded weakly, two seconds before he dragged Remus into another heated kiss.

Remus shifted so that he was straddling Harry, and their hard cocks were trapped between them. Harry dropped his hand to the hot confines, and readjusted Remus's grip so that it was holding them both together.

A whispered incantation added the necessary lubrication, and Remus's hand slid over their cocks smoothly, creating a delicious friction.

Their mouths were mere millimetres apart, both breathing hard, but not quite kissing. When Remus's movements became more erratic and his hand stiffened awkwardly. Harry took over without a word, and closed the two cocks together just as Remus had, while the older man flushed in embarrassment at the way his hand had cramped up. Harry ignored it, and kissed Remus once before he fell back against the mattress, and kept up the rhythm, shuddering as he came first a few minutes later, then Remus not too long after.

The dominant slumped forward and rolled off Harry until just his arm was draped across the younger man's chest.

“No,” Harry said when Remus lifted his wand to dispel their respective messes, “I've got a much better idea for cleaning ourselves up.”

“Oh?” Remus arched a brow as he lowered his wand, and grinning, Harry grabbed his hand and tugged him up.

“C'mon, I'll even let you wash my back,” he said, and Remus's eyes lit up with understanding. Without a word of protest, he hastened to follow Harry down the hall and to the bathroom.

 

~*~

 

Harry missed his target that morning, and appeared in a tree ten feet from his desired destination.

Unfortunately, though he was _in_ the tree, he was not above any study branches. With an ominous _crack_ and alarmed yelp, Harry plummeted to the ground, landing in a painful heap at the base of the towering birch.

“Harry! Are you all right?”

Harry glanced up to see Tavish running towards him, but instead of looking worried, he looked like he was trying very hard to keep from laughing.

“Fine,” he replied with a groan as he sat up and picked a few leaves from his hair. “Just thought I'd test my Midair Apparition, it's a gift, you know.”

“Looks like it still needs a little work,” Tavish remarked while he held out his hand, and Harry accepted it. With another groan, Tavish helped him to his feet. “Nothing broken?”

“No, just bruised—including my ego.”

“I've got something that'll distract you, c'mon,” Tavish said in a rush, and gave Harry's hand a tug. He followed without protest, and Tavish led them straight up to the cabins.

They wove through the little village of homes, far from the Sub House and even farther from both Ulrich and Greyback's cabins. They were in an area Harry hadn't been to before, and the cabins here hugged the edge of the forest. They were older, more or less still well-kept, but carried all the hallmarks of their age. The wood on these buildings had rotted away in some places, and a few of them reminded Harry of a patchwork quilt, with clay filling in the holes made by animals and insects over the years.

“What's this?” Harry asked as Tavish finally stopped before one of the older and shabbier cabins in the area.

“What do you think?

“ _Ramshackle_ seems appropriate...”

“It's sturdier than it looks,” Tavish replied enthusiastically as he patted the side of the cabin, and it groaned ominously. Harry raised his eyebrows. “C'mon,” he said quickly, ignoring Harry's dubious look, “I'll show you the inside.”

“You think Alpha will blame me when this thing caves in on you?” Harry asked mildly, and Tavish rolled his eyes as he grabbed Harry's arm.

“Come on,” he said, and dragged Harry after him.

The interior of the cabin was no better than it had looked from the outside. It was dark, and Harry flicked his wand to cast a little light on the space, though that didn't make it look any better.

Sand and dust covered the warped wooden floor, and there was an unpleasant musty smell in the stagnant air. The ceiling was so thick with cobwebs that it looked almost white, and they continued into the narrow hall that led to the bathroom, making it almost impossible to bypass them and see the rest of the space.

“Charming,” Harry said sarcastically.

“ _Potential,_ ” Tavish replied.

“A _wreck,_ ” Harry countered, and Tavish scowled.

“Well, aren't you a right fucking ray of sunshine,” Tavish said as he crossed his arms. “We just need to fix it up a little. The next moon is in a fortnight; that's plenty of time.”

“A _little?_ ” Harry sputtered, _“_ Tavish, are you _mad_? Fix this place up in fourteen days? The so-called _insulation_ is nonexistent, the floor needs to be completely replaced, there's no fire pit, no furniture, probably more than a few pests making their homes in here—”

“—and we'll get a lot accomplished with an attitude like that!”

“I haven't the faintest idea how to do renovation magic on this scale, and doing it the muggle way would probably lead to a few missing fingers. Any bright ideas?”

“I could ask Fenrir to help us,” Tavish suggested, and Harry snorted loudly.

“ _Right_ , 'cause Alpha will put all his leadership duties on hold to renovate a bloody cabin.”

“You must be fun at parties,” Tavish replied sarcastically, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Well, there _is_ another option...” a third voice chimed in, and the two young men turned to see Adina as well as half a dozen of the unmated subs all hanging around the open doorway with smiles on their faces. “You could always ask us.”

 


	34. Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be October 17th.

Chapter Thirty-Four – Home Is Where The Heart Is

 

Harry was deeply curious about what Tavish had said to Greyback to convince him to let Harry have a fortnight off from his duties as pack professor in order to work on the cabin with the others. However, something about the lazy smile upon the sub's face, paired with the distinctly bowlegged gait he'd adopted after his _talk_ with his mate told Harry that he probably didn't want to know.

Working with the other subs was great fun, especially since after his duties with Jade had ended he'd seen precious little of them. The only downside was that almost all of them were shameless gossips, and he had to repeatedly remind not just them, but what felt like at least half the pack to _not_ say anything to Remus when he came for the moon.

 

The subs with wands helped Harry to fell trees and shape them into planks of wood, while the others took to the task of ripping up the old floorboards and clearing the cobwebs away. The bath at the end of the hall was also in dire need of renovations; the magic that had been used to keep the water clear and clean had significantly deteriorated, and now the basin was filled with a thick, bubbling mud.

“Well, isn't that charming,” Harry remarked as he stared down at it. Tavish lifted his hands in the air in motion of a surrender and walked off, belatedly calling out something about seeing to the flooring before he disappeared.

“Ah, sub males are so delicate,” Leticia remarked affectionately as she rolled up her sleeves, her gaze fixed on the bath. Harry raised his eyebrows at her, and she caught the expression. “Except for you, Harry, of course.”

“I think it may have less to do with sub males being delicate, and more due to the fact that Tavish is something of a little princess,” Adina said, smiling fondly as she gazed in the direction that Tavish had taken off in.

“Well, he _is_ Alpha's paramour...” added Sadie as she dunked her arm into the sludge. A soft _pop!_ sounded from somewhere in the tub, and with a disgusting sort of squelching sound, the basin began to empty.

“I guess that makes him our little prince,” Harry joked, and the others laughed. He used his wand to clean Sadie up, then returned his attention to the draining bath, clearing away the sludge sticking to the sides of the tub as it drained.

“It's true, but I wouldn't call him that to his face,” Adina said with a light chortle, “he _hates_ that nickname.”

 

With a few good-natured laughs, the group returned to work. Harry cleared out the muck and grime from the basin, and transfigured the packed-dirt pool to marble. The women seemed highly amused by this for some reason, but he tried to ignore their titters as they went about fixing the warming charms on the floor and clearing away the blockages in the drainage of the tub that connected it to the river. Less than an hour later, the bathroom looked how a bathroom was supposed to look, and as the group retreated back to the main area of the cabin for a rest, they spotted Tavish unloading a tray with bowls of food, all of which they accepted gladly.

Harry tucked in to the hearty stew, and as he sat there he was tempted to teasingly call Tavish their _prince_ , just to see what would happen, but he found himself too exhausted by all the work to do so. Instead, he leant back against one of the stacks of wood and ate in silence, smiling indulgently as he gazed around at the cabin.

By and large it still looked distinctly woebegone, but it did look significantly better with a lack of cobwebs. Half the floor was missing, but the other half was covered with new planks, and the freshly cut wood smell that permeated the air gave Harry that _potential_ feeling that Tavish had been raving about earlier in the week.

“This place is shaping up rather nicely,” Adina remarked, as though she'd read Harry's mind, “wouldn't you say, Harry?”

“Yeah, it's looking better than I expected,” he replied as he ate another big spoonful of stew, and laughed when Tavish elbowed him.

“If we finish it in time, do you think your mate will go for it?” Sadie asked from her perch on top of the stack of wood Harry had been leaning against, and he shrugged.

“I hope so, I'd hate it if you lot did all this work for nothing,” Harry answered, while he stared down at new floors. “He doesn't exactly have warm and fuzzy feelings about pack life, so I really have no idea what his reaction will be.”

“It sounds like you're sure that he'll say _no_.”

“I'm not sure, Sadie. I'm just...he's got a lot of issues, and it's not really my place to detail it, but he's had it rough when it comes to encounters with others of our kind.”

“Well, maybe instead of dwelling on the past, this place will help him look to the future,” Tavish offered, and Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I hope so.”

 

That evening, as so many preceding it, Harry had a quick wash before he went home to Remus, but that did not completely erase his physical exhaustion from his day of renovating the cabin. The moment he fell into Remus's welcoming embrace, and the dominant eyed Harry suspiciously. Harry ignored the look, and Remus did not ask. Stupidly, Harry felt as though he'd dodged the proverbial bullet—that is, until they'd sat down to eat.

“Those kids really put you through the ringer, don't they?” he asked mildly over dinner, and Harry choked on his mouthful of cassoulet.

“Er...yeah, they're tough sometimes,” Harry replied with a weak, awkward laugh.

Remus stared at him, and arched a suspicious brow.

“Any chance that if I asked you what you were up to, you'd tell me?” he asked mildly, and Harry offered him an innocent smile, which he clearly did not buy for a second.

“Whatever gave you the idea that I'm up to something?” Harry asked, and immediately Remus snorted.

“Have you forgotten who my two best friends were? You can't pull the wool over my eyes _that_ easily, Harry.”

“Well whether I'm up to something or not, you'll find out soon enough,” Harry replied in a bland tone and casual wave of his hand as he reached for his wine.

Remus looked as though he couldn't decide whether this was reassuring or not. Harry's neutral mask dissolved as he grinned at his mate, while Remus rolled his eyes with a chuckle, and for the moment, seemed to give up on his interrogation.

 

The couple spent their evenings as they had spent every one before it, curled up by the fire, with cups of tea, a plate of biscuits, and books in their hands.

Tonight however, it was intermingled with Remus's varied attempts to get Harry to tell him what he was up to.

“Oh, come on, Harry,” Remus purred as he abandoned his book in favour of dragging the young man into his lap when he still wouldn't budge. “Just one hint, _one_.”

Harry shook his head as he straddled Remus's legs and looped his arms around his neck, and grinned as he leant in for a kiss. Remus's hands found their way to his hips, and he tugged his mate a little closer.

“I never _said_ I was up to anything,” Harry finally pointed out as he pulled back a little, “this might be _all_ in your head. Or it's paranoia from spending your adolescence with two people who _lived_ to terrorize others and make trouble.”

“Or you actually _are_ up to something, and you're just being a bit obnoxious to throw me off,” Remus shot back at him, the corners of his mouth twitching a little as though he was trying very hard not to smile.

Harry eyed him for a moment.

He felt warm, and comfortable, and this halfhearted argument and teasing felt strangely _good_ for some reason _._ Even though Remus was being something of a pest, Harry couldn't find it in himself to be irritated by him. Instead, he found it strangely endearing.

“All right, fine,” Harry said at last with a heavy, defeated sigh. “You win. You _really_ want to know what's going on?”

“I really, really do.”

“Alpha's converted the pack into a three-ring circus.”

Remus choked on air as he threw his head back and laughed, his arms tense around Harry.

“No, really!” Harry cried as Remus continued to howl. “All the subs have gotten together for that tiny clown car trick, and Alpha has big red nose and floppy shoes, and the whole hunting party has come up with a flying trapeze act, and—”

“Stop, stop!” Remus interrupted between guffaws, “too much, I can't breathe.”

Harry clamped his mouth shut, but continued to grin at his mate as he began to calm down.

“You're terrible,” Remus said at last, “now it'll be something of a miracle if I manage to keep a straight face in front of Alpha...”

“Did I tell you that his red nose honks?”

Both men snorted at the mental image, and Remus significantly softened the mood when he drew Harry into a kiss.

“Okay, you win, I'll not ask again. You have your fun.”

“ _Please_ , Remus. It's always fun at the circus.”

“Oh, enough,” Remus chuckled and pulled Harry in for another kiss. Grinning, he happily returned it. “I think I'll head to bed, would you like to join me?”

Harry's grin widened.

“Gladly.”

 

~*~

 

The last week preceding the full moon had passed in a flurry of activity, and amazingly, Harry and the other subs had managed to finish the cabin's renovations on time.

The flooring had been stained a deep, rich brown, and the benches surrounding the fire pit were highly polished and looked new, despite the fact that Harry had pilfered them from another abandoned cabin. A pair of empty bookcases stood in one corner of the space, ready for Remus to fill with his books, and on the opposite side of the room sat Harry's bed from the Sub House, enlarged to fit two people comfortably instead of one. His own belongings had already been transported to the cabin, and a few changes of clothes, his scant few books, and other treasures had been secreted away in a simple wooden chest that he'd placed at the end of the bed, completing the décor nicely.

Outside, there was a light snow falling on the territory, and all the sentries with wands were out in force adjusting the warding. Technically, the weather within the territory should not dip below late autumn temperatures, but it seemed as though the attack from the rogues and the subsequent invasion by the Ministry, something in the warding had weakened, and it allowed some of the natural weather to seep in.

Not that anyone was really complaining. Snow was a rare sight for many of the werewolves, those who never left the territory in particular, and the pups seemed to be loving the weather. Despite that fact that he'd been sequestered away in the cabin adding last touches to it, Harry was well-aware that the pups—his students, mostly—were pelting snowballs at the outside of it, making the windows rattle. This attack was interspersed with pleas for him to come out and join them.

“ _Oh, come on, Harry!_ ” he heard Gina cry, “ _we just want a snow war, teacher versus students!_ ”

“ _One versus twenty isn't fair odds, Gina!_ ” Harry called back, and the response was met with another sharp _thwap!_ of a snowball hitting the door.

Carefully so as to avoid detection, Harry peeked out the window and saw a number of his students loitering about outside his cabin in mismatched jackets, gloves, and hats. Some were wearing winter cloaks, but most seemed to have donned muggle winter attire. They had a pile of snowballs at their feet, and Gina seemed to have taken control of the group. Based on how she was speaking (she was too far away for Harry to hear what she was saying precisely) and how she was gesturing with her arms, she seemed to have adopted the role of General, and was devising some sort of plan of attack.

Except, Harry noticed, they had not chosen a spot to stand in very carefully. He could see that the branches above their heads were heavy with snow, and it took but one flick of his wand to shake the tree and cause a small avalanche.

A number of high shrieks sounded from outside, and Harry grinned as he leant back against the wall of the cabin to bask in his victory.

Shortly thereafter, he heard a soft knocking on the door. Even from a distance, he could smell that it wasn't one of his kids, but so close to the moon the scent of a nearby dominant without Harry's mate present was enough to make him nervous. He rotated his shoulders in an effort to shake off the sensation; he knew it was his instincts playing with his mind, and besides, it would be a cold day in Hell before Hermione fell out of love with Ron.

“Come in!”

Hermione let herself in, and Harry beamed at her. At just over five months, her pregnancy was now distinctly noticeable, and the little rounded area of her stomach drew Harry's eye immediately. She smiled sheepishly at him, and rested both hands on her belly as she crossed the threshold and looked around while her small smile shifting to an expression of awe.

“Oh, _wow_ , Harry. This is amazing!” she cried as she looked around, and Harry grinned at her.

“Thanks,” he replied as he straightened up to shut the door behind her. “The others helped out a lot with fixing it up...I just hope Remus likes it.”

“Oh, I know he will, Harry. It's so... _quaint._ ”

“Thanks,” Harry repeated, and once more fixed his gaze on the swell of her stomach. “But what about you? You look...really happy.”

“In between the heartburn and the morning sickness I can't tell you when I've had _more_ fun,” she replied, though despite her negative words, she was positively glowing with excitement. “The Healers say I'm far enough along now that it can hear sound and things...It moved when Ron tried talking to it, and...oh, Harry...I think we need to stop telling him he's got the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

“He cried?” Harry asked, just barely holding back a laugh, and Hermione smiled again, though at Harry's tone, it shifted to a stern look.

“ _Don't_ take the mickey out of him for it,” Hermione said firmly, “I mean it. It was really sweet.”

“Cross my heart, you know I'd never tease him about something like that,” Harry replied, and Hermione eyed him with a look of abject disbelief. “D'you know if it's a boy or girl yet?”

“The Healer told Ron, but I want it to be a surprise,” Hermione said as she sat down on the bench near the fire pit, her hands still cradling her stomach.

“Any theories?” Harry asked as he joined her, and flicked his wand at the fire to build it up a little. “You're the cleverest witch of our age, after all, you must have _some_ idea.”

“I dunno, honestly,” she replied, but after she shrugged, a thoughtful smile crossed her face. “But...I can't explain it, and I feel sort of silly saying it, but I just have this sort of... _sense_ that a princess is on the way.”

“Well I know you and Ron will love him no matter what his sexual preferences—”

“ _Harry!_ ” she cried as she cuffed him, while Harry laughed a little harder than was probably necessary. He tumbled off the bench, and massaged the back of his head as he climbed back up, still sporting a teasing grin.

“Sorry, couldn't resist. But, seriously, I know you and Ron will be great parents.”

Hermione glanced down at her stomach again, and cradled it. Again, she smiled.

“I hope so.”

 

~*~

 

When Harry was certain that his students had gone, he ventured out of the cabin with Hermione at his side. She moved as though to shift away from him, but he grabbed her arm and tugged her close again.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

“You're my shield.”

“I'm... _your_ shield?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

“I have a theory that my kids are less likely to ambush me with snowballs if I'm next to a pregnant person.”

“Are you telling me that you're scared of a couple of twelve-year-olds?” Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, and Harry snorted.

“Do you _remember_ us at twelve?” Harry asked, “better safe than sorry.”

Hermione shook her head as they slipped past the edge of where the cabins sat, and into the main area of the territory.

The moment that they crossed into the space, Harry heard the distinct _crack_ of someone Apparating into the territory. He turned, unable to stifle his grin as he spotted Remus ambling towards him, a small smile of his own plastered across his face at the sight of Harry.

“Be back,” Harry said to Hermione, and she waved him off as he turned and ran for Remus, allowing his instincts to take over as he practically jumped into the older man's arms and crushed their lips together.

“Happy to see me, are you?” Remus asked teasingly as he quirked a brow, and Harry smiled sheepishly.

“Something like that,” he replied as he felt his face grow warm, and jumped a little when he felt Remus's hand casually drop to his arse and give it a small squeeze. Harry laughed and pressed himself back into Remus's hand while he arched an eyebrow at his dominant.

“It's the moon, I have certain...urges. I can't help it,” Remus explained in his familiar, innocent and mild tone. Harry snorted.

“Yeah, I know all about your _urges_ ,” Harry teased as he got on his toes to kiss him lightly. Remus refastened his arms around Harry to return the kiss, and Harry could feel it in his very bones—this was going to be a _very_ good Moon. “Come on,” Harry said with a grin as he took both of Remus's hands and gave the dominant a small tug towards the forest.

Mirroring Harry's grin, Remus allowed himself to be pulled into the shelter of the woods. They wove through the trees, but did not go very deep before Harry staggered to a stop and looked around to make sure that they were indeed alone.

 

“I think this is far enough,” Harry said after a few moments as he glanced back towards the main area of the territory, and was pleased that he could no longer see it. “We shouldn't be spotted out here.”

Remus pulled his hand from Harry's and wrapped it around his waist.

“Are you sure?” he asked as he arched a brow, “we don't have the best track record for staying hidden when we try for a semi-public shag.”

“Hermione's covering for us,” Harry replied reassuringly as he got on his toes to peck a kiss to Remus's lips, “she'll keep anyone who might come looking busy until we've finished.”

“Well, I think you may want to consider getting her a bottle of wine or something for being such an excellent wingma—erm, wing _woman_.”

“She's pregnant, remember? Maybe I'll get her a bottle of grape juice,” Harry said, and Remus wrinkled his nose. “What?”

“I hate grape juice.”

Harry stared.

“ _You,_ whose favourite food is ground up animal bits and oatmeal stuffed in the stomach of a sheep...and you hate _grape juice_?”

“What's the point if the grapes aren't stomped on and fermented in a cask?” Remus asked, and Harry snorted as he shifted to take Remus's hands, and he gently tugged him towards a thick oak that would completely conceal them from view if anyone came looking.

“You are ridiculous, Remus John Lupin,” Harry murmured as he pulled him in for a warm kiss.

Remus coiled his arms around Harry's waist and he tugged him close. Harry stumbled into the embrace as he handed the control of the encounter over to Remus, who gently pinned Harry to the tree as he devoured his mouth. The sub let out a soft groan as he felt a hard bulge brush his thigh, and he pressed himself back more securely against the tree, allowing Remus to pin him there.

“Love you,” Harry whispered against Remus's mouth, and leant in for another kiss. The words made Harry feel light and giddy, and they seemed to be having a similar effect on Remus.

“Love you too, Harry, so, so much...” Remus replied as his hand snaked beneath the waistband of Harry's jeans and found his half-hard cock. Harry buried his face in the crook of Remus's neck to stifle a groan, while his hips bucked weakly into the dominant's hand. “Let's make this quick, I'd rather not get caught...”

“Hard and fast,” Harry breathed, “just how I like it.”

Chuckling, Remus turned Harry to face the tree, and wiggled down his jeans and pants to his knees. Harry let out a soft moan at the feeling of Remus's hot breath against the back of his neck, and the soft rustle of him opening his trousers and whipping his cock out.

“Please...” Harry murmured, arching his neck in order to turn a little and see his mate. Remus's pupils were blown wide with lust, but the expression upon his face was soft and loving. The sight of it was deeply humbling, and Remus paused just long enough to kiss him tenderly before he flicked his wand at Harry, and he shuddered as he felt cleansing, preparation, and lubrication charms all shoot through his arse in quick succession.

“Sorry,” Remus murmured, “but you _did_ say fast...”

“I did,” Harry replied just as softly, “it's okay, keep going...”

Harry's eyelids fluttered when he felt a soft kiss press to the back of his neck, and he closed his eyes completely as Remus parted his cheeks and positioned himself.

Harry groaned as Remus breached his arse with his delicious cock, and Remus shushed him with a soft chuckle.

“Quiet, Harry, do you want them to hear us?”

“I dunno...maybe they'll learn a thing or two...” Harry breathed in reply, but bit his lip as he tilted his neck back against Remus's shoulder while he sheathed himself inside of his mate. “God, so good...”

A soft whimper sounded from behind him, but it was a familiar sound, and Harry recognized it as Remus's feeble attempt to keep himself quiet. Harry pulled him in for another awkward kiss, then his mate pulled back as he began to rock his hips, thrusting in and out of Harry shallowly. Harry let out a soft grunt with each thrust, following Remus's movements easily, his palms pressed to the trunk and his fingertips scrabbling for purchase as his forehead dotted with sweat, despite the distinct wintry chill in the air.

When Harry felt himself getting close, he let out a soft whine as he reached down for his aching cock, only to have his hand swatted away.

“No,” Remus growled into his ear, “you'll cum on my cock, or not at all.”

“Remus,” Harry whimpered, breathing hard, “th-that's impossible...”

“I'll be happy to prove you wrong,” Remus replied as he adjusted his angle just so, tightened his hold on Harry's hips, and Harry nearly bit straight through his own bottom lip as he saw stars.

“ _Fuck,_ Remus...” Harry keened, and a shaky moan escaped him before he could stop it, and groaned again when he felt the sting of Remus's teeth raking across the flesh of his throat. He shuddered and reached one hand back to hold him there as his thrusts grew more erratic.

Harry found his release without the aid of his hand, just as Remus had promised, and the resulting orgasm more powerful and mind-bending than any he had ever felt before. He shot ropes of sticky cum across the tree trunk, and a moment later, Remus's own hot release filled Harry's arse.

The couple remained motionless for several seconds, panting heavily as they came back to themselves. Remus finally slid his softening cock out of the sub's arse and cleaned the pair of them up. Immediately Harry's knees wobbled dangerously, and Remus quickly wrapped an arm around his waist to help him stay standing, while at the same time he awkwardly stuffed himself away.

When Harry felt as though his legs might be able to hold his own weight, he pulled away from Remus reluctantly to tug up his jeans and pants. When he'd finished, he turned around and offered Remus a small, dopey smile as he reached for his dominant and tugged him close, then kissed Remus hard.

“It's been so long since you've taken me to heel like that,” Harry purred against his mouth, “I forgot how good it can feel.”

“So no apology needed this time?” Remus asked, and brushed his fingers over the purpling skin on his throat, “not even for this...?”

“Not this time, no,” Harry reassured him, and kissed him again. “It's when it extends outside the occasional bedroom—er, or forest romp that it becomes something of a problem.”

“I refuse to let _that_ happen again,” Remus said firmly, his voice hard. “I won't become _that_ person again, Harry, I promise.”

“I know, Remus, you don't need to convince me,” Harry replied, and pecked a kiss to his lips. “Come on, we better be getting back.”

Entangled in each other and both grinning like a pair of fools, they slowly made their way back to the main area of the pack territory, where Hermione and Tavish were waiting for them, and eyeing them both with knowing smiles. Neither man had the good grace to blush as they rejoined them near to the bonfire, but neither of their friends seemed to expect them to, either.

 

~*~

 

For the remainder of the day, Harry and Remus spent most of their time with Hermione and Tavish, though with his sub in the presence of two dominant werewolves, Greyback seemed to feel compelled to drag Tavish off and re-stake his claim more than once, which resulted in the sub returning to them littered in love bites, his hair apparently permanently mussed, to the point where after the third time, he'd stopped trying to tame it, as though he knew only too well that it was only a matter of time before Greyback came back to him for another round.

Harry also made a point of avoiding Ulrich—it wasn't that he didn't want to see him or talk to him, but he was well-aware that what he and Remus had been up to earlier in the day would cling to his skin like a heavy perfume. For this reason, Harry didn't want to inadvertently rub Ulrich's nose in it, and kept his distance.

When evening began to fall, Harry was once more subject to watching Remus and Hermione consume their body weight in food while he looked on, alone, given that Tavish was off with Greyback again.

“Hermione,” Harry said suddenly as something occurred to him, and she glanced up, her mouth full of food.

“Hm?” she grimaced as she swallowed, “what?”

“I was just wondering...do you or Ron have any idea what...er, species your baby will be?” Harry asked, and she blinked bemusedly. “I mean, a werewolf and a human making a baby, I mean...will it be a human baby, or werewolf baby, or a little of both?”

“We're not sure,” Hermione answered honestly, “I mean with Veela, their blood blends with the human they mate with, there are barely pure Veela anymore, but werewolves...my case is so unique that it's hard to say.”

“More likely, your child will be all wolf,” Remus said, an apologetic note to his voice. “In cases where a dominant male impregnates a human, it will almost always be a werewolf, not a human child. The dominant werewolf genes are too strong, they'll overpower pretty much anything.”

“I guess that's an answer,” Hermione replied with a smile as she rested her hand over the swell of her stomach.

“Hermione? You okay?” Harry asked, and she shrugged weakly.

“I don't know, honestly,” she said as she pushed away the last dregs of her food, her appetite clearly gone. “I mean, being a werewolf in the wizarding world is...hard. Harder than I thought it would be. I just don't know if I want to expose my child to all that...”

“You could always talk to Ron about coming here permanently,” Harry suggested, “although there'd need to be an exchange of bodily fluids for it to be safe for him...”

“I'll need to talk about it with him,” Hermione replied with a small frown, “but I don't fancy the idea of fighting other dominants for him all the time...” she glanced over to eye Harry knowingly as she trailed off, and he felt his face burn. It took a moment for what she was saying to sink in however, and he blinked hard as he tried to process what she had just implied.

“Hang on, are you saying that Ron would be a sub?” Harry asked, and Hermione nodded.

“I, ah, I accidentally bit him during...well, _you know_ ,” Hermione's face flamed as she glanced towards Remus, but he did not react to her words. “A bite in human form isn't contagious, but I could sense it. I never told him, no reason to, but I think he'd take it hard...he's never been very well-balanced when it comes to self-esteem things like that.”

Harry nodded; he could definitely see Ron getting upset over the idea of being a submissive _anything_ , and being seen as physically weaker than both Hermione and Remus would definitely be a blow to his ego.

“Well, you don't need to decide anything for another three or four months, at least,” Harry said after a pause, “and things _are_ getting better for werewolves in the wizarding world; you know that.”

“Yeah, I know...” Hermione rubbed her stomach absentmindedly as she looked away from the couple, her expression nervous and thoughtful.

Remus's hand covered Harry's, and he leant against his mate as he looked away from Hermione. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and upset her, especially with the moon so close, but he desperately wished there was a way to make things easier for her. Once again, he was reminded that this _was_ his fault, and he felt his stomach churn with guilt. He knew better than to voice it, knowing that Hermione would simply wave it off, but he couldn't help feeling it nonetheless.

 

~*~

 

As the sun began to dip on the horizon, Harry reluctantly parted from Remus and Hermione, and went to join the other subs.

Being away from Remus was making him anxious, and as he gazed across at him, he offered Harry a small nod and smile of reassurance, which helped him to relax. He still felt edgy, but nothing like before as he began to shed his clothes, but this time kept his eyes down, certain that if he caught Remus looking, he would have a very embarrassing reaction to that stare.

Harry felt the instant the sun gave way to the moon, and his knees buckles as he let out a low, pained moan.

He rode out the transformation, but like all the ones before it, it did not get any easier. When it had passed, Harry lay there for a few moments to catch his breath before he finally stood and shook himself, then made a beeline for the dominants—one in particular, who was waiting for him, his tail high and wagging, and mouth open in a clear wolfish smile.

 

They passed the moon as they had so many others before it. They played and ran with the pups, Hermione lay resting and watching, a few female subs guarding her, and Moony disappeared early in the evening with the other dominants to hunt. Because of the season, their kills were small, but still more than enough to fill their bellies. Beyond that, having Moony at his side while he ate, instead of filling the role of omega was brilliant, and Harry felt as though he he might burst with happiness and contentment.

After they'd eaten their fill, none too surprisingly, Moony was suddenly surrounded by the pups, all of them eager to play with their favourite dominant. They were all jumping up and biting at Moony's scruff, hindquarters, tail—essentially anywhere they could reach as they tried to coerce the dominant to play with them.

Harry yipped his approval, and bowed forward as he gazed at his mate, his rump and tail high in the air. Moony responded with a bark of his own, and soon the pair were off, running and playing with the pups once more. The other pack members looked on as they ran, the pair keeping the pups occupied while the adults rested. The parents of the born wolves intervened occasionally when they felt that Moony was getting too rough with them, and immediately the dominant would adjust his behaviour to accommodate the reprimand, but otherwise, both he and Harry were left to corral the small pack of young ones on their own.

A howl called them all back when the night had begun to wane, and Harry and Moony happily herded the pack of whining, but exhausted pups back to the subs and their respective parents. They all flopped down heavily, an action Harry immediately mimicked as he fell into the snow, rolling himself around to cool off from the tiring run.

Moony let out a pleasured sort of growl as he stood over Harry and nuzzled him affectionately, both their tails wagging as Harry got up and shook himself off. With a few gentle nudges from his mate, he happily trotted off to a more secluded area of the woods, which featured a small den that had been protected from the snow.

Had Harry been in his human form, he may have noticed how the way the snow had been cleared from the hollowed tree in a perfect circle, or the warm summer air that seemed to be condensed only to that one spot was clearly the cause of some kind of spell or charm. In his present state however, all Harry cared about was that it was warm and secluded, and he felt safe there.

Harry curled up just inside the den with Moony surrounding his lithe form like some sort of blanket, and after the exhausting night, he fell asleep quickly.

 

~*~

 

The next morning dawned cool and bright, and the previous night's enchantments on their den had long worn off, meaning that Harry woke up shivering.

There was a dull ache in his bones, which intimated to Harry that it could not have been long after the moon had set. That, and the fact that the sky was still dark.

Remus was still partially draped over him, fast asleep, and his skin felt almost hot to the touch. Harry shifted closer to him, but it did not help to warm him nearly as much as he had hoped that it would.

“Harry?” Remus's voice sounded the moment that he shifted closer, and it was thick with exhaustion. He cracked one eye open as he ran a hand over the sub's arm, and stiffened. “Good God, you're freezing! come here...”

Remus rolled onto his side and drew Harry closer, one arm around his waist, while the other rubbed at his arms and chest, trying to warm him up.

“S-sorry,” Harry mumbled between chattering teeth, “I didn't mean to wake you...”

“Nonsense,” he murmured, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I'd much rather be woken up at the crack of dawn, rather than you freeze to death...”

Harry tried to snuggle closer, but just short of slipping _into_ Remus's skin, he was as close as he could get. He was _slightly_ warmer than before, but it still was far from comfortable.

“This isn't working,” Remus murmured after a few moments, “I'll find my wand and make a Portkey to get you home, I don't think I'm strong enough to Apparate right now...”

“Wait!” Harry said quickly as a smile spread across his face, “I have a much better idea. Help me up, I have to show you something.”

Remus's brow knitted in confusion, but he obediently helped a still-shivering Harry to his feet, and with a wide grin he took Remus's hand and tugged him towards the cabins.

“Harry?” Remus asked, confusion lacing his voice, “where are we going?”

“You'll see,” Harry said, his smile never fading as he continued to tug Remus along, “I was planning on surprising you with this later, but I think now might be a much better idea...”

Remus appeared more confused than ever, but did not pose any more questions as they wove through the cabins, and at last stopped before _their_ cabin.

Holding his breath, Harry opened the door and took a step back to let Remus step inside first.

The fire pit burst to life the moment he crossed the threshold, bathing the cabin in a warm, flickering light. Harry stepped in behind Remus and quietly shut the door, and watched Remus's face for a reaction.

His eyes were wide, his lips were parted slightly, and he turned his head left and right, as though unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Harry, what is this?” he asked softly, a mixture of confusion and awe in his voice.

“Our cabin—our home, if you want it,” Harry explained as he stepped up to his mate and took his hand.

Remus forced his gaze away from the empty bookcases and looked down at Harry, his face still lined with confusion.

“This isn't...a pressure tactic to make you stay in the territory or anything like that,” Harry explained quickly, “but what with Alpha's offer, we'd need a place together, so the subs helped me fix this place up. What do you think?”

Remus looked away from Harry and back to the cabin, his expression thoughtful.

“I'll...Harry, this is _wonderful_ , but I'll really need to think on it, it's a big decision for me,” Remus explained, and pulled Harry in for a quick kiss. “But that you did this for me...for _us_ , I have no words for how happy that makes me. Let's sleep on it, and we'll discuss particulars tomorrow—erm, later today, all right?”

Harry nodded, swallowing his minor disappointment behind a neutral mask. It wasn't a _no_ , but it wasn't the _yes_ he'd been hoping for, either.

The pair headed for the bed, and Remus pulled Harry down under the warm duvet, holding him close as he nuzzled the back of his neck lovingly.

“Better than the cold ground?” Harry teased, and Remus chuckled.

“Yes, much,” he replied softly, “let's get some rest, all right?”

Harry nodded, and rolled over to curl more securely into his dominant's embrace.

Despite the small sting of disappointment that his plan did not go _exactly_ as he had intended, he could not deny that curled up with Remus like this in a cabin that was _theirs_ still helped him to live in hope that Remus might acquiesce to stay in the territory.

He sent a silent prayer up to any deity who might be listening, and then gave himself over to his exhaustion, and finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

 


	35. Bending the Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In an effort to lessen how much I have to do in November, we are, once again, changing the update schedule! Yay! So starting today I'll be posting a chapter every second day until the remaining 5 chapters are up. This means the next update will be Tuesday, then Thursday, then Saturday, then Sunday. Please enjoy today's update :)

Chapter Thirty-Five – Bending The Rules

 

When Harry woke later it was almost noon, and Remus was still fast asleep beside him.

As quietly as he could, Harry slipped from the bed and got dressed, then stepped outside with the intent of finding where his and Remus's clothes and wands had wandered off to, along with scaring up some food.

This plan fled from his mind however when he stepped out of the cabin and nearly collided immediately with a certain dominant that had been standing right outside of the door.

“Ulrich!” Harry cried as he clutched a hand over his heart, “you scared me. What are you doing?”

The questions were out of his mouth before he'd fully absorbed what he was seeing—Ulrich, carrying two bowls of food, with a wad of clothing under his arm that _definitely_ didn't belong to him, given that he'd never known Ulrich to wear cardigans.

“Figured your mate would like his clothes back, and you two missed breakfast, so I saved you some.” He held out the two bowls, but awkwardly in order to keep the clothes from toppling out from under his arm.

Harry accepted the bowls almost mechanically, but still felt a little numb with shock at the gesture. He glanced up at Ulrich to study his face, but he saw nothing but the familiar warm and welcoming smile that he'd come to know so well, without the slightest hint of an ulterior motive or heartbreak in his eye.

_He really was too good for me,_ Harry thought as he cracked a small smile.

“Thank you,” Harry replied at last, and offered Ulrich a smile of his own. “I— _we_ really appreciate it.” He paused, but again Ulrich's expression did not change. Harry thought he should say more, but at the moment, he had no idea what he _could_ say. He chewed the inside of his cheek nervously, and the silence between them extended past what was normal, and headed towards awkward when Harry finally spoke again.

“Erm, are you doing all right, with...everything? I was worried about you, I didn't want to, y'know, with Remus here...I didn't want to rub it in your face, I—”

“—I'm okay, Harry, really,” Ulrich interrupted, and smiled at him. “It was hard at first, but it's getting easier. I did love you, but you were never perfectly happy with me, not like you are with him. I can see it—hell, we _all_ can. You two just...light up around each other. I couldn't give you that, so I think we're better off apart.” Ulrich's voice cracked a little, and his smile seemed to quiver for a moment. “I still would like to be your friend, though, if that's all right.”

“I'd like that,” Harry replied at once, “really, I would. You were my friend before all this, and you will be my friend after. As long as it's not hurting you to do that; don't force yourself on my account if you think it's going to be too painful.”

“How many times am I going to need to reassure you that I'm okay?” Ulrich asked as he arched a brow at him. Harry felt his face grow warm with embarrassment as the older man chuckled. “In the end, I think it was for the best. If you chose to stay with me out of misplaced guilt or something, I think we would have just crumbled over time, and it wouldn't be pleasant. It's better this way.”

“Well, as long as you're sure, then I'd be happy to be your friend,” Harry replied, and smiled warmly at the dominant. He mirrored Harry's smile, and offered up the wad of clothes to him. Given that his hands were full, Harry lifted an arm, and Ulrich leant in to tuck the clothing under his arm. In the process, he snuck a kiss to Harry's cheek, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

“Trying to make Remus jealous, are you?” he teased, and Ulrich's easy smile twitched into a smirk.

“Just once more, for old time's sake,” he replied with a throaty chuckle, and lifted his hand to finger a wave. “See you around, Harry.”

Still a little red in the face, Harry slipped back inside the cabin just in time to see Remus begin to stir.

Harry wandered over to him with a smile on his face, and lifted his arm just enough to let the clothes drop to the floor by the bed. The soft clatter told Harry that Ulrich had the forethought to bring over their wands as well, but for the moment his focus was not on his clothes, or his wand, but on his mate laying in their bed.

He sat on the edge of the duvet, and set down the bowls of food on the bedside table while he watched Remus slowly wake up. While he waited for Remus to rouse himself, Harry reached out to stroke his hair lightly.

Remus's eyes flicked open, and he appeared confused for a moment, as though uncertain of how he'd gotten there, then his honeyed gaze flitted up to Harry.

“Morning,” Harry said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leant in to offer Remus a small kiss. When he pulled back, he saw the most curious expression upon Remus's face—he could see the flicker of angry jealousy in his eyes that Harry had come to know so well, but it was paired with something else—guilt.

It took Harry a moment, but he quickly realized that Remus could smell how close Ulrich had been to his mate, as Harry had known that he would. At the same time however, Harry could also see Remus determinedly trying to quash this feeling—and _not_ act on it.

Harry brushed a hand across his scruffy cheek, and leant in to kiss him again.

“Ulrich came bearing our clothes, wands, and breakfast,” Harry said softly, “ _nothing_ happened; I promise.”

“I—I know it didn't,” Remus murmured as he sat up slowly, and drew Harry into a close embrace, “I'm sorry, I'm trying.”

“It's all right, Remus, just relax,” Harry replied, and kissed him again. This kiss was warmer, more heated, and he shivered as Remus tugged Harry into his lap, and ran his hands down his spine to cup his arse. Harry shivered, and slowly, albeit reluctantly, he broke the kiss.

“You know, I'm all for you re-staking your claim of me,” Harry murmured hoarsely, “but can we eat first? I'm _starving.”_

Remus nodded stiffly, his limbs shaking a little, and Harry bit back a curse, realizing too late just how _hard_ Remus was fighting against his own impulses to reassert his claim on him.

Somewhat humbled by how hard Remus was trying, Harry quickly pulled him in for another kiss, though it was more a light peck when compared to their earlier kisses.

“Why don't you get our food, eh? It's right there,” Harry nodded to the nightstand, and he watched with a small smile as Remus's entire body seemed to relax at the suggestion. He shifted, pulling the blanket off himself for a moment, and Harry settled between his legs. Remus handed Harry a bowl of food first, still steaming hot as though it had just come from the kitchens, then grabbed his own. Harry took the liberty of tugging the blanket back over their legs, and he leant back against Remus's chest lightly before they settled in to eat.

“This part I could get used to,” Remus said suddenly, and Harry chuckled when the older man bestowed a whiskery kiss on his shoulder. “It almost feels like a honeymoon.”

“Well we never did get one the first time round...” Harry replied in a light tone, and angled his head to look up at Remus. “We could hide in here all day and shag, if you want.”

Remus barked a laugh, and cradled Harry's chin as he leant in for a kiss. Harry could taste the salt from the bacon on his lips, and Harry shivered with delight. He was certain he'd _never_ tire of kissing Remus.

“As delightful as that sounds, I think I need to speak to Alpha first before we properly christen this place,” Remus replied softly, and cocked an eyebrow at Harry. Harry could not help but inhale sharply in surprise.

“You mean...?” he began, and Remus nodded.

“I loved teaching,” Remus said, and he gave Harry's waist a small squeeze. “There's nothing I regret more than being forced to resign in your third year. My job at the Ministry is enjoyable enough, but...” he paused and shook his head. “I think it'd be an honour to teach with you.”

Overwhelmed, Harry had just enough sense to set aside his half-eaten breakfast before he turned in Remus's embrace and kissed him hard.

Remus fell back from the force of it, and threaded his fingers through Harry's hair as he kissed him back.

“This is going to be _so_ brilliant,” Harry breathed, “Professors Potter and Lupin...” Harry kissed him again, and Remus let out a soft groan as he arched up into his mate.

“I like the sound of that, but we still need to convince Alpha...” Remus pointed out, his voice as breathless as Harry's was.

“We'll convince him,” Harry replied reassuringly, and kissed Remus again, “I know that we will.”

 

~*~

 

After the impromptu christening of their bed, and then the bath, and their benches around the fire pit, Harry and Remus finally emerged feeling decidedly well-shagged and pleasantly exhausted. Despite Harry's weariness, he was excited and hopeful about speaking to Greyback. At the back of his mind there was a small, niggling voice of doubt that he'd agree to it, and he prayed that that little voice was wrong.

As they passed from the grouping of cabins and into the main area of the territory, Harry couldn't help but grin bashfully at the knowing looks many of the other subs were giving him—especially those who had helped him fix up the cabin. Tavish waggled his eyebrows as Harry passed him by; Sadie giggled audibly, and Leticia, who was having a late breakfast with Jade, began to eat her sausage very crudely, inserting it into her mouth as though she intended to suck it off.

Remus seemed to take note of this attention, and very casually slipped his hand from Harry's to wrap it around his waist. This time, Harry did not oppose this blatant show of claim, and instead revelled in it.

Swallowing a grin, Harry leant into the embrace as he wrapped his arm around Remus's waist, but barked a laugh when someone—Harry couldn't tell who—whistled at them, and Remus's face turned an attractive red.

They found Greyback talking quietly with one of the pack sentries, and untangled themselves from one another as they made their approach. They continued to hold hands as they stopped at a respectful distance, and waited for him to finish his conversation.

When at last the other dominant moved away, Greyback's expression settled into a glare as they stepped forward. The sour look on his face, paired with the negative feelings all but radiating off the alpha sent Harry's sub instincts into hyper-drive, and he unconsciously shifted closer to Remus.

“What do you two want?” he growled, and Remus immediately wrapped a protective arm around Harry, though his neutral expression upon Remus's face did not change.

“We had a proposal for you, Alpha,” Remus replied politely, and nodded to Harry. “Harry, would you like to tell him you idea?”

“Er,” Harry swallowed and tried to shake off the _run and hide_ instinct that threatened to overwhelm his mind at that moment. Remus's arm around him tightened slightly, and spurred on by his mate's support, he launched into an explanation.

“You see, Alpha, my students have started to express an interest in learning to duel, and teaching upwards of forty pups by myself is a bit...er, challenging. Remus told me that you invited him back to the territory again, and...well, he used to be a brilliant professor when I was at Hogwarts, so I was thinking that maybe we could split the teaching duties.”

Greyback's gaze shifted from Harry to Remus and back again. His eyes were narrowed into a glare, though he did not seem exactly _annoyed_ with them in the strictest sense, but more like he was fed up of dealing with them.

“Teaching isn't an appropriate role for a dominant werewolf,” he said at last, and Harry's shoulders sagged in disappointment. “I need my dominants in positions of protection for the pack, not showing our pups _wizard magic_.”

“B-but, Alpha,” Harry tried again, and winced when Greyback's gaze snapped back to him. “Isn't the role of teaching the pups to defend themselves against dangerous foes an...er, upstanding position within the pack? And Ulrich said that he was going to talk to you about revisiting how the subs are treated here, shouldn't that go for the dominants, too? In the muggle world, a lot of jobs and things used to be segregated by gender, and it never ended well. Isn't this sort of the same?”

“I agree that the subs of this pack need to not be coddled as they have been in the past, but this is different, Potter,” Greyback replied, his teeth clenched in frustration. “I cannot keep bending the rules to suit _your_ fancy. I need my dominants in places of protection for the pack, not grading essays!”

“If I may, Alpha,” Remus interrupted when Harry opened his mouth angrily to protest, “more than half of Harry's students have dominant blood, and will come into their domineering traits as they come of age. I assume at that point you'll wish to assign them to hunting or sentry duty, or as protection for the subs who cannot fend for themselves. Wouldn't it be more beneficial to you to have them as prepared as possible, both physically as well as magically?” he paused, and regarded the alpha with a nervous edge to his gaze. When Greyback did not respond, he added, “I am not a very prideful man, but I always fancied myself a decent teacher, and over the years, I have had _many_ of my ex-students approach me and tell me how much they enjoyed my classes. I would never see teaching as a profession just for the fairer werewolves; it is a noble title, one that I would be very proud to take up again.”

Greyback was quiet, and he was glaring at the pair as though he was regretting ever asking Harry to teach the pups to begin with. His anger continued to play havoc with Harry's instincts, and he instinctually pressed himself harder against Remus's side as they waited for a response. Remus adjusted his grip on Harry, and moved his hand up his back to squeeze his neck gently; affectionately. The strangest thing was, Harry found this touch more comforting than a full-body embrace, and he felt himself immediately relax.

“I will give you a one-month trial run, Lupin,” Greyback ground out after a lengthy pause. “You will take the dominant pups, and Potter will take the subs. If I see no improvement in their magical ability, Potter will take back your students, and I will assign you elsewhere. Is that clear?”

“Clear,” Harry and Remus said at the same time, and they both laughed, while Greyback rolled his eyes.

“Don't make me regret this,” he growled, and both Harry and Remus nodded.

“I promise, Alpha,” Harry said, “and...thank you.”

Greyback grunted, but did not offer up a proper response, and stormed off. They watched him touch the back of Tavish's neck, and bowed forward to whisper something to him, right before Tavish jumped up and he was half-dragged towards the cabins.

“I can't believe that worked,” Harry said as he leant against his mate, and his face split into a grin when he felt the low rumble of Remus chuckle next to him.

“Clearly you underestimated our amazing powers of persuasion,” Remus teased as he pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's hair. Harry tilted his head up, and grinned at Remus.

“Care to move this back to our cabin to celebrate?” Harry asked, and his dominant let out a soft groan of longing.

“As much as I would love to, I have something else that needs doing...I _could_ use your help with it, though.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, his brow furrowed with confusion, a feeling that only grew when Remus's grin widened.

“Well, I only have the clothes on my back here, and I think I should probably go and get the rest of my things...those bookcases in our cabin look like they're _begging_ to be filled.” He arched a brow at Harry, and he snorted at the double entendre.

“Hmm...I'd _love_ for you to fill those bookcases...among other things.” Harry felt his face flood with colour at the weak comeback, but Remus only chuckled as he draped an arm around Harry's shoulders as he casually led him towards the territory's Apparition point.

 

~*~

 

During this move, Remus seemed to be much more selective about what he brought with him, and they managed to cart everything from Remus's cabin (as well as Grimmauld Place) in one trip.

Remus's clothes joined Harry's in the trunk at the end of the bed, his toiletries were set up next to Harry's in the bathroom, and two hours later, Harry was sprawled out by the fire, relaxing as he watched Remus charm the bookcases to widen, and meticulously organized the books that he'd brought. The sandwiches Harry had fetched for him from the kitchen tents were left ignored, and Harry was fairly certain that even a pack of stampeding Blast-Ended Skrewts couldn't distract Remus from his book-organizing.

Which was a shame, really, because Harry was simply _dying_ to drag Remus back to bed. In the meantime, Harry decided it was as best a time as any to address what had happened when they were speaking to Greyback—assuming Remus was able to tear his gaze away from his miniature library for more than ten seconds.

“Remus?”

“Hmm?” he turned to Harry, a copy of _Dangerous Beasts and How to Avoid Them_ in his hands. “Something on your mind?”

“I was just wondering...about what happened with Greyback...” Harry paused, uncertain how to best phrase it. Remus blinked bemusedly, as though he wasn't certain what Harry was talking about. “The...the _neck thing_ you did...why did I go all...loose?”

Remus smiled knowingly.

“Ah, yes,” he said with a warm chuckle, “ _the neck thing_.”

He set the book back down before he stood up, stretching his arms above his head, and his back and shoulders cracked audibly, making Harry wince. Still smiling, he sauntered over to where Harry as he sat up, his back against the side of the bench as he remained on the floor. Remus sat down next to him, and immediately rested his hand at the back of Harry's neck, making him shiver.

“Quite simply, it's an instinctual tool,” Remus explained. “You accept me as your dominant, your _mate_ , and not just consciously, but _instinctually_ you trust that I can protect you. When we faced Alpha today, so soon after the full moon, you are physically and mentally exhausted. Because of this, you will react to things a little differently than usual. When you saw that Alpha was in something less than a pleasant mood, your instincts as a sub are to make yourself as small as possible, or hide, if you can, from the perceived threat, because right now you are in no shape to face off with much of anything. When I do _this—_ ” Remus squeezed the back of Harry's neck lightly, but firmly, and he let out a tiny groan when he felt his entire body sag with relaxation, “—it is a method of reassurance, to help keep you calm and make your instincts realize that there is nothing to be afraid of.”

“So it's like your dominant werewolf parts telling my submissive parts that he'll protect me?” Harry asked, and Remus smiled at him warmly, and pulled him into a kiss.

“Oh, Harry,” Remus whispered between impassioned kisses, “I'll _always_ protect you, no matter what.”

Harry smiled, something that bordered on a goofy smile—his lips pulled back in a wide, toothy grin as he settled himself into Remus's lap and kissed him again. The hand at his neck dropped to his back, and Harry immediately moved the limb back to his neck, making Remus chuckle with amusement. Harry wrapped his arms around Remus's waist, and after another few minutes of feverish, enthusiastic snogging, Harry leant forward with a small sigh of contentment, and rested his head against Remus's shoulder.

“It's so strange...” Harry mumbled as he sat atop his mate.

“What's strange?” Remus asked, his hand moving from Harry's neck to his hair, playing with the locks in a wonderfully familiar touch.

“I used to get...I used to get so irritated whenever Ulrich tried anything like that. The crazy dominance stuff, I mean,” Harry explained, shifting closer to Remus (despite the fact that it was physically impossible for Harry to be any closer to him). “But it doesn't bug me when you do it. I feel like you could throw me down in the middle of the dinner circle and shag me senseless and I wouldn't complain.”

“Hmm...a tempting thought,” Remus teased as he pecked Harry's forehead lightly. “I don't know why my doing it doesn't bother you, that's not a question I can answer. My best guess is that my actions are less...er... _overt_ than his, in a way.”

“Or maybe we're just _meant to be,_ like soulmates or something,” Harry teased, and Remus chuckled.

“I never quite realized how much of a hopeless romantic you are, Harry,” Remus murmured softly in a similar teasing tone. “As far as I know, soulmates don't _actually_ exist, but what I can say is that we have known each other a long time, and my unforgivable acts against you aside, I suppose we just...know what the other one needs. Nothing is compelling us anymore, not magically, at least. We can just live our lives in peace.”

“In peace,” Harry echoed, sitting up a little to kiss Remus properly. “I like the sound of that.”

 


	36. Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be this coming Thursday. Thank you guys so much for your continued support of this story, I always get so excited to see your reactions and comments to everything that I post. :)

Chapter Thirty-Six – Peace

 

One month after Greyback's approval that Harry and Remus divide up the teaching duties, Harry was witness to something truly incredible.

Nothing bad had happened.

No more dramatics, no new foes, and no accidental magic going haywire— _nothing._

Their lives had peace— _at last_.

And for Harry, to watch Remus return to what he did best was more than an added bonus—it was a _blessing_.

 

“The Patronus Charm is a very complex piece of magic,” Remus instructed, pacing before his group of teenage dominants, while Harry sat by, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he observed them all. “Not all of you will master it, and indeed it will take several weeks of instruction, at least, before any of you will be able to produce a fully corporeal Patronus. Harry?” Harry stood up and approached his mate. “Would you be kind enough to give us a demonstration?”

Grinning, Harry lifted his wand.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Except, this did not go quite as Harry had planned, and he stared, wide-eyed, as a huge, silvery, and _very_ familiar werewolf exploded from the tip of his wand and shot towards the woods.

Harry exchanged a look with Remus, raising his eyebrows while the pups whooped and cheered, but did their best to mask their surprise as Remus turned back to his students.

“As you can see, a fully corporeal Patronus is not an easy charm to perform, and indeed may change shape when the caster undergoes a deeply life-altering event.” He paused, and glanced over to Harry. Harry inclined his head once to indicate that he understood, and Remus shifted his gaze back to the pups. “The Patronus Charm is not as simple as pointing your wand and shouting the words. You could all pull out your wands now and try it, and you would be lucky if you managed to produce even so much as silver vapour. Now, can anyone tell me what else is needed to accurately cast the Patronus Charm?”

A hand towards the back shot up.

“Yes, Daniel?”

“Happy thoughts,” the boy answered, and Remus nodded his head once.

“Exactly, well done,” Remus replied, and offered the boy a small smile. “In order to cast the Patronus Charm with any level of accuracy, you must focus your mind on a happy thought or memory—”

“— _any happy little thought?_ ” a light, airy voice cut in, and Harry snorted, while Remus eyed Gina with confusion.

“Erm, yes, any happy thought, but it must be a _powerful_ one. It can't be something too simple, or it will not be strong enough—”

“—and _faith, trust, and a little bit of fairy dust!_ ” Gina chimed in again, and Harry just barely managed to bite back a laugh.

“Erm, no, fairy dust is not any part of this particular charm...”

“Well, it worked for Peter Pan...” Gina protested, and Remus chuckled, apparently finally cottoning on to what she was referencing.

“What do Pans have to do with anything?” interrupted one of the other students, a boy called Julian. “Pans are creatures who eat the souls of little kids, this is to fight _Dementors_ , remember?”

“All right, everyone, enough,” Harry called out, and Gina grinned at him.

“Sorry, Harry,” she said, but Harry crossed his arms and jerked his head in Remus's direction. She caught the hint at once. “Sorry, Remus, I'll be quiet.”

“Thank you, Gina,” he replied, smiling gratefully at Harry before he turned his attention back to the students.

“Now, I want you all to take a moment to think of a happy memory, and you'll all get to try to cast it. Remember: it must be a _powerful_ memory.”

Remus fell silent, taking a step back while the faces of his pupils became tense with thought. A few were muttering under their breath, but Harry suspected these were kids trying to remember the incantation—if the occasional wisp of silver vapour that shot from their wands was any indication.

“Does everyone have their memory?” Remus called, and chorus of yeses answered him. “Right, form a line, those of you still thinking stay at the back and join the queue when you think of one. Don't rush yourselves!”

There was a mad dash of kids jostling to be first in line, and given that this was a class made up entirely of pups with dominant blood, it did not take long for the growling and fighting to begin.

Harry hung back, the urge to intervene overwhelmed by his submissive tendencies to run and hide, and instead he watched as Remus intercepted the fighting pairs, breaking them up smoothly, and without hardly speaking a word. Quietly, Harry felt genuine amazement at how fluidly Remus could exert his dominance over his students, and how they respected him, and never challenged his authority. To see Remus accepting these parts of himself, and finding that perfect balance of werewolf and wizard was truly awe-inspiring to witness.

Quite a change from how Remus _used_ to be viewed within the pack.

After a few moments, Remus was able to step back once more, the fights finally dispersed and the teenage dominants separated. Harry smiled, watching quietly as the first student stepped up to attempt the charm.

 

“ _Expect—Expecto Patronal!_ ”

“ _Patronum_ , Rhys,” Remus corrected gently, “go on, try again.”

“Right, sorry,” Rhys replied as he went a little pink with embarrassment. His eyebrows knitted together as he focused and cried out, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Silver vapour shot from the end of his wand and formed a shield, and the others applauded. He managed to hold it for close to fifteen seconds before it dissolved and Rhys fell to his knees, panting hard.

“Up you get, Rhys,” Remus said as he grabbed the boy's hand and helped him stand back up. The rake-thin boy wobbled unsteadily, and Remus steered him over to Harry, who conjured a long bench next to him. Rhys sat down heavily, while Remus handed an enormous slab of Honeydukes' best milk chocolate to Harry. “You know what to do, Harry,” Remus said, and Harry grinned.

“Right, here you go, Rhys, eat,” Harry said as he broke up the bar into squares and handed a piece to the pup, “we're not fighting Dementors yet, but it still helps, trust me.”

“How are we s'posed to fight Dementors in the territory?” Rhys asked as he accepted the chocolate and crammed it into his mouth, while the next pupil stepped up to try their luck at casting the charm. “Alpha would never allow one inside our borders.”

“Not a _real_ one,” Harry replied with a short nod, “that's definitely too risky, especially with the younger pups running around, but Remus and I have a plan for a sort of...stand-in Dementor.” Harry smiled to himself. “It's as formidable as the real thing, _trust me_.”

 _As soon as we find a Boggart for me to hang around with,_ Harry thought with a shiver. He was _not_ looking forward to that.

The next students joined Rhys, and Harry went back to handing out the chocolate, and answering their questions as he went.

 

Predictably, no one managed a corporeal Patronus. Nathan, one of the quieter pupils, came the closest. He managed to produce a great, silvery blob that ambled slowly towards the woods, and he quite suddenly became the most popular of his classmates as all of them pestered him for how he'd done it.

Nathan appeared to be caught somewhere between humbled and alarmed by the attention, but in no immediate danger. Because of this, Harry and Remus both felt no need to disperse his classmates.

Harry sidled up to his mate, and slipped his hand into Remus's. His dominant turned to him with a warm smile, and Harry got on his toes to offer him a kiss.

“Great job...Professor,” Harry said, unable to stifle his proud smile as he gazed up at him. “This lesson felt oddly nostalgic, don't you think?”

“I do recall teaching a certain student the same charm during my tenure at Hogwarts,” Remus replied lightly as he draped an arm over Harry's shoulders, “he was something of a magnet for trouble...”

“ _That_ hasn't changed,” Harry said with a short laugh as he swatted his arm. “You ready for this weekend?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Remus answered as he chuckled, “and you?”

“I have wizarding cameras for everyone,” Harry said with a grin as they began to amble towards their cabin. “We're ready to do battle.”

“You know, Alpha is going to _kill_ you for this...”

“It was _Tavish's_ idea!” Harry protested as Remus laughed. “Besides, how else will we convince pack newcomers that Alpha once attended a wizard wedding in...dare I say it, _dress robes_?”

“I'm still shocked he even accepted Hermione's invitation,” Remus said as he slid his hand down Harry's back to rest it against his arse casually, making the sub smirk knowingly. “I was quite certain he'd decline.”

“Tavish really wanted to go, and I think he...er, coerced our fair leader into it,” Harry replied, making Remus chuckle again, “besides, it's not like he'll be alone. Hermione invited the whole pack, but only a handful of the others actually accepted.”

“Who else is coming again?” Remus asked as they wove through the cabins before stopping at their door, which Harry opened as they both slipped inside.

“Us, Alpha, Tavish, Adina, Ulrich, Wu-Fei, Silas, Jade, Sadie, and Leticia,” Harry said as he ticked them off on his fingers. “Leticia didn't want to come, but then when Jade said she was going she insisted on coming along. I think she might fancy her.”

“And you're certain they're not just good friends?” Remus asked mildly, and Harry shrugged as he kicked off his trainers, then took a running leap towards the bed, which creaked loudly when he landed. Remus barked a laugh and followed his mate, albeit much more slowly. When he finally eased down next to him, Harry spoke again.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” he said as he shrugged. “It's just a hunch. But either way, that's who's coming on Saturday...assuming Hermione doesn't kill Molly before then.”

“Is she likely to?” Remus asked, while he began to not-so-subtly trail his hand down Harry's front and towards the zip of his jeans.

“If the letters I've gotten are any indication...yes. They're already rushing it because Hermione wants to be married before the baby comes, so I think between that and Molly's micromanaging tendencies, she's stretched to the limit.” Harry meant to say more, but he was cut off abruptly when Remus snapped open the catch of his jeans, pulled down the zip, and slid his hand into Harry's briefs.

“R-Remus,” Harry moaned weakly, and shivered as Remus began to idly stroke him to hardness. He answered his name by kissing Harry lightly.

“We've got a few hours before dinner, and we have nothing pressing to see to,” Remus said as he continued to stroke him. “Why don't we just... _enjoy_ ourselves?”

“That's the best suggestion I've heard all day—” Harry was cut off abruptly when Remus rolled on top of him, and he let out a small squeak of surprise as the dominant straddled him and crushed his mouth hard against Harry's.

Harry reached up and tangled his fingers in Remus's hair, holding him against his mouth while he arched his hips, and Remus gave his cock a soft squeeze. Harry let out a muffled moan as Remus's tongue expertly parted Harry's lips, and he extended his own tongue to taste his mate.

“If-if you keep touching me like that, this'll be over before it's really begun,” Harry panted, and nipped at Remus's bottom lip.

Remus chuckled as he nodded, and slowly extracted his hand from Harry's briefs. The shine of his precum clung to Remus's fingers, and he reached up to brush some of the liquid over Harry's bottom lip.

“Taste yourself,” Remus commanded, and something about the sound of it sent a shiver of delight through Harry as he obeyed, and swiped his tongue over his bottom lip to gather up the bitter-tasting fluid.

“I think I like the taste of your cock better,” Harry purred, and reached down to squeeze Remus's thick member through his trousers.

“Would you _like_ to taste it?” Remus asked softly, and Harry grinned.

“Always.”

They shifted their position; Harry grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed, and Remus moved to the edge, his legs parted and a lazy smile on his face as he watched Harry drop the pillow to the floor and position himself between the older man's thighs.

“I can't remember the last time I did this,” Harry said as he made quick work of unbuckling Remus's belt and undoing his trousers, and at last extracting his thick cock. It felt deliciously hot and heavy in his hands, and though it was certainly nowhere near the monstrosity that Ulrich was packing, it didn't matter to Harry. This was _Remus_ , and he could have a gnome between his legs in lieu of genitalia and it would not alter his feelings for him whatsoever.

“It _has_ been a while...” Remus replied, his voice deep and breathy as Harry took his time stroking the cock lightly; teasingly, before he closed his mouth over the head.

Remus tossed his head back with an appreciative groan, and his hips twitched when Harry gently laid his hands against his thighs to keep himself balanced as he slowly swallowed more and more of his mate's cock. Remus shook a little from the strain of not thrusting into Harry's mouth as the sub shifted, balancing himself with one arm while his opposing hand closed around the base of Remus's shaft, and slowly began to bob his head.

Tiny, pleasure-filled whimpers and gasps for breath escaped past Remus's lips as Harry tended to him, and he revelled in the taste of Remus's cock in his mouth. It _really_ had been too long since he'd done this.

Harry opened his mouth wider, and relaxed his throat as he swallowed Remus's cock the rest of the way down. He felt the dominant go rigid under him, and smiled inwardly as he swallowed around the organ, effectively turning Remus into a shuddering puddle of goo beneath him.

“Harry...” Remus panted suddenly, “stop...stop...”

Harry immediately pulled Remus's cock from his mouth with an obscene, wet _pop!_ and looked up at Remus in confusion.

“What's wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, not at all,” Remus replied with a small laugh, “but I don't want to find my release until I'm buried inside you, and your _very_ talented mouth would certainly stop me from achieving that.”

Grinning, Harry got up and climbed into Remus's lap where he promptly began to tug on the hem of his jumper. Remus chuckled at Harry's enthusiasm, and lifted his arms to help Harry peel the garment off.

Remus reciprocated by ridding Harry of his own jumper and T-shirt, and both garments were discarded haphazardly as they crushed their bare chests together in a rough kiss. Harry felt, rather than heard, the low lupine growl that Remus vocalized, and shuddered at the way Remus's arms tensed around him.

“Hmm, getting a little rough are we, my Big Bad Wolf?” Harry teased between kisses, and Remus snorted.

“Would that make you _Little Red Riding Hood_?” Remus shot back, and Harry chuckled as he dropped his hand to the thick shaft crushed between them, still hanging crudely out of the older man's trousers.

“Why, Grandma,” Harry said in a high, false voice that made Remus howl with laughter, “what a big cock you have!”

“All the better to fuck you with, my dear,” Remus replied in a purr, and before Harry could respond to the comeback, Remus flipped them over and pinned Harry beneath him, causing him to squeak with surprise at the sudden movement. He kissed his sub hard, and Harry melted into it.

“ _Remus..._ ” Harry moaned, and rotated his hips, earning him a soft grunt of pleasure from his mate. Remus answered by kissing him again, while he dropped his hands to Harry's hips, dug his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, and gently tugged the garment off.

Harry sat up to help Remus discard his briefs and socks, while Remus did the same, hastily kicking his corduroy trousers the rest of the way off. Before Remus could pin him down again, Harry gleefully straddled his dominant and kissed him, his fingers twisted in the fine strands of Remus's grey and brown hair. Remus let out a feeble whimper of desire, and Harry pulled back a little, once more nipping at the dominant's bottom lip playfully.

“I love you, Remus,” Harry said softly, and Remus smiled up at him warmly.

“I love you too, Harry, _so_ much,” he murmured, and pressed his palms against the tops of Harry's thighs, then slowly began to inch them up the expanse of flesh, eliciting a pleasant shiver from the sub.

Remus stopped when he reached Harry's hips, and gripped him firmly, but gently as he arched up for another kiss.

“Harry...will you ride me?”

“Save a broom, ride a werewolf?” Harry replied teasingly while he arched a brow at his mate, and Remus chuckled.

“Something like that. Come here.” Remus tugged Harry closer and kissed him soundly, while Harry opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. At the same time, Harry blindly patted the side-table next to their bed, knocking off Remus's nighttime reading material as he grabbed at the lubricant.

Remus immediately snatched it from him, and squeezed some of the gel onto his fingertips, spreading it out and coating them before he snaked the arm around to Harry's arse, and began to tease his entrance.

“Please...” Harry moaned softly before kissing Remus again, and he felt the older man's soft laughter reverberate through his chest as he slid a single finger into him.

Harry trembled at the sensation, and bore down on the digit, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead on Remus's shoulder as he panted sharply. His cock was aching, desperate for release, and the lack of stimulation to that particular part of his body was beginning to drive him mental.

“Almost there...” Remus murmured as he slid in a second finger, scissoring them briefly before he pulled out and silently passed the control of their lovemaking over to Harry.

Harry moved to grip Remus's shoulders, the dominant's hands shifting to rest against Harry's hips as he positioned himself, and slowly sank down onto Remus's cock with an exaggerated sigh of contentment.

“S-so good,” Harry murmured, but his voice quickly shifted to a laugh when he heard Remus say the same thing at exactly the same time.

After Harry gave himself a moment to revel in the sensation, he slowly began to rock in Remus's lap, moving more slowly than usual to find a rhythm, given that they'd never done _this_ particular position before. Harry sped up his pace gradually, panting hard as his skin became slick with sweat, while Remus's hands remained stationary on his hips, not reasserting control over the situation, but merely guiding Harry's movements.

Remus's breathing became more laboured as Harry continued to fuck himself on his dominant's cock, and Harry's head tilted back as he let out an obscene groan of pleasure as one of Remus's hands moved away from his hip to curl around his cock.

Harry tried to jerk forward into Remus's hand while he continued to move over his cock at the same time, but it was proving next to impossible; Harry's head spun from the overwhelming pleasure of the dual sensation of Remus's cock in his arse, and the dominant's hand surrounding his own prick.

With one more grunt of pleasure Harry tensed and froze, shooting ropes of semen over Remus's stomach and chest. At the same time, the constriction on Remus's cock was his undoing, and he too found his release with a soft cry, and Harry felt his mate's hot seed fill his arse.

Harry slumped forward, panting hard, and slowly pulled himself off the softening organ as he lay down, catlike, on top of his mate. Remus was breathing just as hard as he was, and though Harry had to admit the position was comfy, the feeling of cold semen squished between their bodies was decidedly _not_.

Harry rolled off of Remus reluctantly and onto his side, while Remus lifted his wand and cleaned up their respective messes, then drew Harry close once more.

“That was...brilliant,” Harry panted, and Remus kissed his temple lightly. “Was it good for you too? I know that Ulr—er, _some dominants_ sort of...can't handle not being in control in the bedroom.”

“Harry, it was _wonderful_ ,” Remus replied as rested a solitary finger under his chin and tilted his head up so that he could kiss Harry lightly. “Handing over the control to someone else can be terrifying, but I trust you, and I love you, and the wolf parts of my mind feel the same. I would be delighted to let you take control any time you want it.”

“And if I wanted to top you?” Harry asked, arching a brow, “I mean...I have no real desire to, I _like_ bottoming, but if I wanted to...would you let me?”

Remus smiled warmly.

“ _Absolutely._ ”

Harry leant in to kiss him again, but Remus lifted a hand to his cheek, cutting the kiss short as he pulled back.

“What is it?”

“Before I forget, there's something I have for you,” Remus said and Harry's brow furrowed in confusion, for Remus suddenly sounded more than a little nervous.

“Something?” Harry asked as he cocked his head to the side curiously, “like a gift?”

Remus didn't answer, but lifted his wand again and flicked it. The older man's discarded trousers wiggled, and something small and square exited his pocket. It zoomed across the cabin and towards them, and Remus caught it deftly as he sat up, tugging Harry with him. Harry leant into his side while he eyed the little box curiously.

“I don't know if you would still want it, but with Ron and Hermione's wedding coming up it made me think of it, and...” Remus trailed off as he flicked open the box, and Harry inhaled sharply.

_Their rings._

“How...?” Harry murmured, and reached out a tentative hand to brush his fingertips over the cool metal. They were just as lovely as Harry remembered, the tiny depictions of running wolves crafted in white gold so realistic that Harry half-expected them to come alive at his gentle touch. “I can't really remember what happened to mine, after all the...the bad, er, _stuff_ , it was just gone. How did you find it?”

“A certain pregnant dominant held onto it for you,” Remus replied with a faint smile, and Harry huffed a laugh. “I gave it to you before all the trouble started, and I wasn't certain whether you wanted it back or not...I know you always wanted recognition for our relationship with our wizard friends, so...” he trailed off while he gazed at Harry uncertainly.

“Give me your hand,” Harry commanded, and Remus stared at him in confusion. Harry waited, and after a moment Remus gave in, and rested his right hand against Harry's palm.

Harry plucked out Remus's ring—distinct from Harry's only by the emerald gems embedded in the tiny wolf's eyes, and positioned it just above his ring finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed...” Harry began, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he slid the ring into place. Remus picked up Harry's, and immediately mirrored his actions.

“For better or for worse,” Remus replied as he placed the ring on his finger, and Harry shook his head.

“Just _for better._ We've had enough worse, don't you think?”

Remus cupped Harry's face in both of his hands, and drew him into a kiss.

“I like the sound of that.”

 


	37. Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be this coming Saturday, October 21st.

Chapter Thirty-Seven – Tradition

 

An insistent knocking woke Harry on Saturday morning.

He stumbled over Remus, who grunted indignantly by being woken by Harry's knobbly knee digging into his gut as the sub climbed over him and stumbled, half-asleep, over to the door.

“ _Harry!_ ” Remus suddenly hissed, his voice still thick with exhaustion, “ _pants!_ ” Harry turned to ask what he meant, and let out a little squeak of surprise when he was hit in the face with his own pair of boxers. It was only when he looked down to pick them up off the floor did he realize what Remus was hinting at, and he tugged on the garment before he finally answered the door, to find Tavish standing on the other side.

“Tavish?” Harry asked as he blinked, “what is it? Please tell me there's no crisis, I've hit my quota on crises for the next decade, at least.”

“No crisis in the strictest sense,” he replied as he shouldered his way into the cabin, apparently ignorant to Harry's mate, who had promptly fallen back asleep after saving Harry from flashing Tavish. “I'm just making the rounds, you two were last, since I know you both like to sleep late.”

“Er, okay, rounds for what?” Harry blinked again, completely lost as to what Tavish was getting at.

“Fenrir is getting _really_ touchy about the whole dress robes thing, and I think Adina and I have both told him at least six times that he can't show up in his jeans. So, no matter what he looks like, do _not_ take the mickey out of him for how he looks, all right? Adina and I think he looks pretty handsome, but even us saying that is making him tetchy. So no comments, yeah?”

“I sincerely doubt any of the pack is stupid enough to poke fun at Alpha,” Harry pointed out as he rubbed his eyes, “but Remus and I will keep an eye out for any Weasleys who might not understand the danger.”

“Your wizard friends really would poke fun at Alpha over his clothes?” Tavish asked, his eyebrows raising curiously.

“They'd poke a dragon with a stick, given half a chance,” Harry replied, thinking of Ron and George's myriad of pranks they'd pulled on Draco over the last year. “We'll keep an eye out once the champagne starts flowing, I promise.”

Tavish's nervous expression shifted to a relieved smile, and he pulled Harry into a hug. The sudden move startled Harry a little, given that he wasn't fully awake yet, but he didn't have time to properly react to it before Tavish pulled back and he darted out of the cabin.

Blinking bemusedly at his friend's abrupt exit, Harry shuffled back to bed and flopped down heavily next to Remus.

“So we're not allowed to comment on Alpha's fashion sense?” Remus asked groggily, and Harry snorted a little.

“Apparently not,” Harry replied as he rolled onto his side with an exaggerated groan. Remus reached for him, and pulled Harry close.

“Hmm, I suppose I'll have to find another method to get myself killed by Alpha with my own stupidity...”

“You're Remus Lupin, remember?” Harry retorted with a small laugh, “you're a little more intelligent than the average pigheaded dominant.”

“Just a little?”

“It's early and I'm tired, shut up,” Harry stretched his arms above his head with another groan, and smiled indulgently when Remus leant in to brush kisses along the sub's collarbone. Harry shifted his position a little and reached out to cradle Remus's chin in his hand. He coaxed the older man into a warm kiss, and shivered with delight when Remus's hands found his waist.

“Come on,” Remus murmured against Harry's lips, “we have a little time before we need to get up. What do you say, Harry?”

“You're insatiable, you know that?” Harry asked, his mouth twitching into a grin when Remus chortled softly. Instead of answering properly, he pulled his sub close, and kissed him again.

 

~*~

 

Slowly, Harry and Remus got out of bed and meandered to the bath for a quick wash before dressing in jeans and jumpers for breakfast. It was a fairly normal breakfast, save for the fact that Greyback seemed to be absent, and both his mates appeared distinctly annoyed about something. If the way they carried food back to the alpha's cabin was any indication, clearly he was still being a bit infantile about the dress robes issue. Remus and Harry exchanged an amused look, but they didn't dare say anything.

After eating quickly, Harry and Remus returned to their cabin to get ready for the wedding.

 

On Remus's insistence, he had insisted that Harry update his dress robes from fourth year for the occasion. Now that the time had come to actually wear them, privately, Harry was grateful that Remus had pushed him towards that decision.

The robes Harry had selected were solid black with a green trim, paired with black trousers and dress shoes, as well as a white button-down shirt. They were smart, albeit a bit dark for a wedding, but he doubted anyone would really complain about it.

Harry had transfigured an old tree branch into an ordinary wall-mounting mirror, and he was staring at his reflection while he tried to charm his bow tie to tie itself. The result proved that sometimes doing things by hand was much better than using magic, as he quickly untied the knotted mess before he suffocated.

“Need some help?”

Harry turned at the sound of Remus's voice, and he smiled at the sight before him.

He'd never seen Remus in formal wizardwear before, and the effect was quite stunning. He wore a white shirt and black trousers like Harry, but over it was a lovely forest-green robe, trimmed with gold thread, and the fabric seemed to gleam in the soft light of their cabin.

As Harry stared, the colour rose in Remus's cheeks, and he began to smooth out the garments uncertainly.

“Is this all right? Is there a stain or something?” he asked nervously as he glanced down at himself, and with a chuckle, Harry shook his head.

“No, nothing like that. Just...God, you look so amazing,” Harry said, and his face reddened at the breathless quality of his voice.

Remus chuckled as he strode across the space and closed the distance between them, pulling Harry into a gentle kiss.

“You look wonderful too. Very handsome,” Remus replied softly, and Harry bowed his head in embarrassment as Remus's hands moved to the loose bow tie at this throat. “Can I help you with this?”

“Please,” Harry replied with a small nod, and Remus immediately stepped back, moved behind his mate, and rested his hands over Harry's.

Confused, Harry watched in the mirror as Remus gently lifted Harry's hands to the piece of silk ribbon. Like a puppeteer and marionette, Harry watched their reflections as he manipulated Harry's hands, showing him just how to tie his bow tie—this time, without inadvertently strangling himself.

Remus turned Harry around, and smoothed his palms over his robes, straightening out the creases that he saw, a warm, amused smile on his face.

“There _is_ a small problem, however,” Remus said, and Harry quirked an eyebrow at him. “I believe there's a rule somewhere that states you're not allowed to show up at a wedding looking better than both the bride _and_ groom.”

“Shut up,” Harry responded with a short laugh as he gave Remus a small shove, and stepped away long enough to grab the wizarding camera off his night stand, tucked it away in his pocket, then moved back over to Remus. “Let's go, everyone else should be ready, too.”

The pair exchanged a look, and the unspoken reference to the fact that _everyone_ also meant _Greyback_ , and once more Harry was overwhelmed with the idea of seeing his leader in _robes_.

They got their snickers out of their systems as they walked hand-in-hand towards the main area of the territory. Near the border that separated the cabins from the rest of the territory, Harry stopped short when he spotted something gleaming in the grass.

“Hello,” Harry said as he paused, and bowed down to investigate.

“What is it, Harry?” Remus asked as Harry parted the grass to reveal a knut pressed into the soil.

“It's a knut,” Harry replied, picking up the bronze coin. “Weird, I've never known anyone in the territory to carry money before.”

“Who knows,” Remus said as he took it from Harry for a moment to have a look at it. “Hang onto it, maybe it'll help you get lucky tonight.” He winked, and Harry chuckled as he accepted the coin back and pocketed it.

“Oh, yes, and maybe that painfully attractive, intelligent older dom will finally notice me...” Harry said with mock breathlessness, a hand planted over his heart as he spoke.

“Silas...?” Remus asked, and Harry snorted.

“I mean _you_ , you prat,” Harry replied as he swatted his arm lightly. Remus laughed, and twined his fingers with Harry's as they resumed their walk to meet the others.

 

The couple found all the subs that were attending dressed and chattering happily near to the bonfire while they waited for the others. The moment Harry and Remus stepped up, the chatter broke up a little as they welcomed the couple into their group. Jade was dressed in a set of fine satin robes in soft pink, and he hair was twisted into an elegant knot, with a single cherry blossom woven into the style; Leticia was wearing a dark blue set of robes that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, and her hair was pulled back in a complicated braid at the base of her neck. Sadie, who was standing a little farther back, was wearing cranberry coloured robes in a sleek, fitted design, her blonde hair styled in a number of elaborate curls that cascaded down her back. She seemed to be filled with a nervous excitement as she regarded the other subs quietly.

“Harry, Remus,” Jade called as they approached, “you two look wonderful!”

“Thanks, you too,” Harry replied as they stopped near to them. “Where are the quads? Not coming?”

“I think it may be a little much to ask them to sit still for the ceremony,” she replied with a small, amused smile. “Some of the unmated subs are keeping them occupied in the House while we're gone.” As Jade finished her explanation, Leticia sidled up next to her and took her hand, causing Harry to eye Remus with an arched brow and a look that clearly said, _I told you so._

“We may duck out early, though,” Leticia added, “it's best not to keep the mother separate from her pups for _too_ long, but we'll see how the evening goes. We trust the subs they're with, but...” she trailed off, and Harry nodded. He understood it was an instinct thing, more than a frame of mind cemented in common sense.

“Well, if anything, it'll give you a couple hours a grown-up time,” Harry offered, and Jade laughed.

“Yes, that is something I've been sorely lacking these last few months,” she agreed as she smiled at Harry.

“Anyone know where Alpha and his mates are, by the way?” Remus interrupted, an arm moving to wrap instinctively around Harry when Silas, Ulrich, and Wu-Fei approached. They too were all wearing dress robes, Silas in silver to match his hair, Ulrich in brown and green, and Wu-Fei in black. Harry rested a hand over Remus's in silent reassurance as the three dominants moved towards them, but he did not force himself out of his mate's embrace.

“Tavish and Adina went to try and convince Alpha to come out of his cabin,” Ulrich explained, a note of amusement in his voice. “I think he's having an issue with formal wear, and he's being a _little_ stubborn about it.”

“You know Hermione never _forced_ him to come, and she wouldn't fault him if he chose to skive off,” Harry pointed out, and Ulrich chuckled a little.

“I think he genuinely _wants_ to come—not that he'd admit it,” Ulrich replied with a small chuckle, “he's always supported his pack. But I think he'd be acting this childish even if it was a _muggle_ wedding. I think formal wear gives him hives.”

A large hand seemed to come out of nowhere, and it cuffed Ulrich sharply over the head, and the other two dominants that flanked him snorted loudly.

“Granger invited the pack, and she intends to present her mate to me officially, which means I'm obligated to show up,” Greyback growled. “I am her alpha, that's how these things work. Being dressed up in one of these ridiculous monkey suits is _not_ my idea of a good time.”

Now that Greyback had joined them, Harry was surprised by how the dress robes seemed to suit him, though he looked _extremely_ uncomfortable. In fact, the robes were very similar to the ones that Harry was wearing, except without the green trim. Both Tavish and Adina were clinging to an arm each, with Tavish dressed in robes of black and violet, while Adina wore a dress in deep, royal blue, with a sweeping neckline, long sleeves, and a slit up the side of the garment that almost reached halfway up her thigh. All three of them together looked so glamorous, and Harry found that even if he _had_ been tempted to poke fun at Greyback for wearing wizarding garments, seeing him now, there was absolutely nothing worth poking fun at—he simply looked too good.

“We better get going,” Remus suggested mildly, breaking up the quiet shock of the other pack members seeing their leader dressed in such a way. “We don't want to be late. Alpha, you have your wand, correct?”

Greyback scowled, and nodded his head slightly.

“Yes, I have the damn thing.”

“It's just a precaution, Alpha,” Harry said quickly, “Ron's family are almost all purebloods, and we all know what wizards from that sort of background can be like.”

“If any of these wizards tries _anything,_ there will be hell to pay,” Greyback growled, and his eyes swept over the group of werewolves. “We are pack, I want you lot to stay close. Granger swears that no one will harass us, but most of us have tasted prejudice at the hands of wizards too many times to warrant _trusting_ them. I don't want anyone taking stupid risks.”

“No one will try anything, I promise,” Harry said firmly, and when the gazes of four dominants swivelled his way, he unconsciously shifted closer to Remus, but kept his voice firm and confident. “I've known the Weasleys since I was eleven years old. Some of their extended family is a bit...unsavoury, but Ron, his parents, his siblings...they're good people, and they wouldn't judge us like that.”

Greyback seemed to seriously doubt this claim, and with one final grunt, he nodded towards the Apparition Point, and the group set off

 

~*~

 

They reappeared just outside of the Burrow's wards, and Harry wobbled dangerously as he landed badly, but Remus was there in an instant, keeping him from toppling over.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered, his voice close to breathless, and Remus offered him a little squeeze of reassurance.

“It's what I'm here for.”

“C'mon everyone,” Harry called, but stopped short when he saw everyone (save Ulrich and Remus) looking at the towering, lopsided house with varying looks of bewilderment on their faces.

In their moment of pause, the front door burst open, and Molly Weasley hurried out, dressed in her own set of maroon dress robes. Harry heard the distinct growl of their alpha, closely followed by Adina muttering, “be nice,” in a firm _no arguments_ tone of voice.

“Harry! Remus!” Molly cried jovially as she reached the group. “Oh don't you all look _wonderful!_ Of course, Hermione told us you were coming, but we didn't expect—” she cut herself off very suddenly as her gaze fell on Greyback, and she shook her head once. “Never mind, never mind. Harry, would you care to introduce me to your—erm, _pack?_ ”

Nearly all the dominants regarded Molly oddly when she chose to ask Harry to take a pseudo-leadership role, save for Remus, Greyback, and Ulrich, who appeared unfazed by this particular development. Harry knew that it was a learning curve for them, and swallowed his amusement at their bewildered looks as best he could while he turned and began to point out the various pack members that he stood with.

“You remember Ulrich,” Harry said, motioning to his ex, “and that's Jade, Leticia, Sadie, Wu-Fei, Silas, and of course you know Alpha—er, Greyback—and his mates, Adina and Tavish.”

Harry dropped his arm as he finished, and bit his lip nervously when he saw Molly mouth the word, _mates_ , but it did not hinder the welcoming smile she offered to most of them, but could not quite extend to Greyback. Considering what he'd done to Bill during the war, Harry couldn't exactly blame her, but both Adina and Tavish had not missed this, and regarded Molly with similar frowns.

“Come along, everyone,” she said and motioned towards the house. “Everyone is setting up out back...oh, Harry, would you mind coming with me, please?”

Harry froze mid-step, and blinked at her in confusion. Remus's hand on his hip tensed momentarily, but relaxed almost at once, though he too was regarding Molly with a look of confusion.

“Er, all right...what for?”

“Hermione wants to see you, dear,” Molly explained, “something about an old muggle custom she wants you to help her with. She tried to explain it to me, but goodness, it didn't make any sense. Something about borrowing, and old, and new, I'm not certain...”

Harry exchanged a look with Remus as they both chuckled at Molly's jumbled explanation. Given that Remus was half-blood, Harry knew that his mate would understand what Hermione had been on about. Before he could follow Molly, Remus pulled him in for a light kiss, completely uncaring that the Weasley matriarch was watching.

“Go on,” Remus murmured softly, “I'll keep the pack out of trouble while you're gone.”

“Something tells me you're less likely to attract trouble with me elsewhere,” Harry teased, and Remus laughed again, but did not contradict him.

Harry offered Remus's hand a quick squeeze, then reluctantly stepped out of the comforting embrace to follow Molly inside. She led him up to the guest room he and Ulrich had used the last time he'd been there, all the while babbling about the preparations that had been made for the day, who was and was not attending, and Hermione's stress and pregnancy-induced mood swings, all of which went in one ear and out the other as Harry tried to shake off his strange discomfort at being alone in a place that did not smell like _pack_ , without his mate nearby.

Molly left him when they'd reached the door, and Harry knocked on it once.

“Who is it?” Hermione called from inside, and Harry did not fail to notice the high, stressed lilt to her voice.

“It's me,” Harry replied at once.

“Oh, thank God. Come in!”

Harry let himself into the room, and inhaled sharply at the sight before him.

Hermione looked _beautiful_.

The wedding dress she had chosen was a lovely, fitted garment, the bodice was strapless and an intricate design of woven lace had been sewn into the front. When she moved, the garment seemed to glimmer, and upon closer inspection, Harry noted that dozens and dozens of pearls had been woven into the design, and the entire effect made Harry think of a rushing waterfall, or waves breaking on the shore.

The bottom half of the dress was mostly fitted, but the train fanned outward, and reminded Harry a little of the mermaid painting from the Prefects' bathroom back at Hogwarts. The shiny material seemed to ripple whenever she moved, and it ended with a pair of satiny white heels that were not very high, but still made Harry's feet hurt to look at them.

Beyond the dress, Hermione's hair had been pinned up in an elaborate set of curls that fell down her back elegantly, and was woven with what looked like tiny little diamonds. Around her neck was a thin silver chain (though Harry assumed it was white gold or stainless steel, and not actual silver) with a tumbled piece of Lapis Lazuli in place of a pendant.

“Wow,” Harry breathed, “Hermione...you look...wow.”

“I don't look too much like a beached whale, do I?” Hermione asked teasingly as she smiled at him shyly, and pressed her hands to her swollen belly. Six months along, she was now very visibly pregnant, and paired with the wedding dress, Harry could not recall the last time he'd ever seen her so perfectly happy.

“No way,” Harry said as he shook his head, and offered his friend a reassuring smile. “You look great.”

“Thanks, Harry...I'm just...oh, I'm so excited,” she flushed a little as she spoke, positively brimming with happiness as she gazed at her friend. “Everything's finally working out how it should, you know?”

Harry nodded at once. He knew.

“So, what d'you need?” Harry asked, swallowing past the slightly hoarse tone of his voice as he got a little choked up. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, or a penny in your shoe? I see you've already got the _something blue_ part covered.”

“I need a knut,” she said simply, “I think that'll cover the _something borrowed_ and _penny in your shoe_ part. I've got this,” she lifted up the skirt of the dress to show a thin anklet with all sorts of charms attached to it, though at a distance, he couldn't tell what they were. “It's an old heirloom my mum gave me when I was little, before...” she shook her head as her voice got a little croaky, and moved on to showing Harry the rest of her ensemble. “And this,” she paused again, and motioned to the dangly, teardrop-shaped earrings made of some sort of white crystal, “they're new.”

“Well, you're in luck,” Harry said as he dug into his pockets, and pulled out the tiny bronze coin and handed it to her. “I found it on the ground right before we left. Remus said I should keep it for luck, guess it's good I did.”

“Yeah, it really is,” Hermione agreed as she laughed and accepted the coin. She removed one of her shoes and placed it in the toe then stepped back into the heel before regarded him again with a serious look. It gave Harry the impression that there was something else she wanted to ask of him, and seemed to be working herself up to actually vocalizing it.

“There's one more thing, Harry,” she said, her tone taking on one of slight uncertainty, and he arched an eyebrow at her. “I almost wanted to ask Alpha, but I didn't think he'd really understand, and you're like a brother to me, and what with my parents still missing...I don't know if they'd really _want_ to know that their daughter has become a—” she broke off and shook her head when her voice got a little weak again.

“C'mon, Hermione,” Harry said gently, “it's all right. Whatever it is...just, y'know, spit it out.”

Hermione laughed while she smiled at him, her eyes a little teary as she reached for his hand, and gave it a small squeeze.

“Harry, I want you to be the one to walk me down the aisle.”

 


	38. Love Led Us Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Epilogue will be posted tomorrow, Sunday, October 22nd.

Chapter Thirty-Eight – Love Led Us Here

 

As Harry gazed into the back garden of the Burrow, he found that it had been transformed into a wedding paradise.

The altar stood in the centre and towards the back, leaden with all the tools that the priestess would need for the ceremony. The backdrop of the apple orchard, dusted with fresh snow, made it look like something out of a winter wonderland.

Facing the altar were the guests, all seated in a semicircle on the same spindly golden chairs that had been used at Bill and Fleur's wedding—except Hagrid, who was seated on a sturdy bench at the back. Bouquets of white lilies and pink dogwood were attached to the sides of the chairs that bracketed the central aisle, and they had been threaded with gold ribbon to form a makeshift barricade. On top of it, there were twinkling lights positively _everywhere._

Though it was midwinter, the ground had been cleared of frost, and the air was charmed to be as warm as a summer day. With the clear sky above and everything beyond the charmed area twinkling with frost, it looked to be the perfect day for a wedding.

Harry and Hermione stood in the Burrow's kitchen, and the dominant werewolf was flushed with excitement. Her eyes were sparkling with joy, and she seemed to be practically glowing as she paced restlessly, waiting for the moment to come. Ginny, who had been standing by quietly in a strapless dress of soft mauve and holding a simple bouquet exchanged a look with Harry, and they both smiled at Hermione's near-blinding excitement.

“Ready to go?” Harry asked Hermione as the first quivering notes of the bridal procession began to play. Ginny stepped past them with a little wave and began to make her way down the aisle, and Hermione smoothed her hands down the front of her dress nervously.

“How do I look?” she asked, her voice quivering a little, and Harry answered her with a warm smile.

“Great,” he replied. “Seriously, you look beautiful. Ron's a lucky bloke.”

She smiled warmly, her eyes shining, and she plucked up her bouquet of lilies and baby's breath off the little scrubbed table. She took a little breath, and beamed at her friend.

“Then yes,” she said at last, “I'm ready.”

Harry held out his arm to her, and she took it with one hand, the other still clutching her bouquet tightly. Harry reached for the back door as they approached it, and tugged it open. The pair stepped down onto the grass just as Ginny moved to the left side of the priestess, and as all eyes turned to them, the assembled crowd seemed to let out a collective sigh.

As one, all the guests stood up to watch their procession down the aisle, and for once in his life, Harry had no issue with so many people staring at him. He kept his eyes forward as they walked, and felt a lump form his his throat when he noticed that Hermione was crying, but smiling, and as he shifted his gaze to Ron, he watched as the ginger brought his hands up to cup his face. Harry knew by the way that his best mate's eyes shone that he, too, was crying, and Harry was certain that he might burst with joy for the pair of them.

They stopped just before the altar. Harry hung back as Hermione stepped forward, pausing just long enough to hand her bouquet to Ginny before she moved the rest of the way over to Ron, and took his hands.

Harry spotted Remus and the others seated near the front, and as quickly as he could, he slipped into the row of chairs and sat next to Remus. They threaded their fingers together and shared a quick smile, then refocused their gazes on the ceremony.

“In the name of the Gods, we welcome you to this union of two souls,” the priestess said as she addressed the crowd. “May the Ancient ones bring about this bonding, and bless it.”

“So mote it be!” answered the crowd, and Harry followed along as best he could. When he stumbled over the words he heard Remus chortle softly, and offered the sub's hand a small squeeze.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, Hermione Jean Granger,” the priestess continued, addressing each of them in turn, “you have chosen to speak your vows from your heart, are you prepared?”

“Yes,” they both said at the same time, their hands still twined together.

“Hermione?” the priestess prompted, and she nodded, still sniffling a little. The crowd tittered with good-natured laughter when Ron produced a handkerchief for her, and she dabbed her eyes carefully to keep her makeup from running.

“Ron,” Hermione said, her voice still a little croaky, “we've been through everything together. We've faced mountain trolls in school lavatories, and giant chess sets, we've hunted Horcruxes, and made a career out of keeping our best friend from getting himself killed—” she paused when the crowd laughed, and Harry's face burned with embarrassment.

“—And then we got together,” Hermione continued, “and it could have been a lot of things, but it's been like a fairy tale. We've had our hardships—some of the normal kind, like trying to have a baby,” one of her hands untangled from Ron's to touch her stomach, “and some of it dealing with our new inter-species romance over the last few months. One thing that's not changed is how I feel for you. I love you, Ronald Weasley, and I always will. I will fight for you, I will protect you. You are _everything_ to me.”

There was a brief pause, and Hermione handed Ron back his handkerchief with a soft giggle, and he dabbed his eyes.

“Ron?” the priestess prompted, and Harry watched his hands tense slightly over Hermione's.

“Hermione,” he said in reply, his voice just as hoarse with an overwhelm of emotion as Hermione's was, “I've never been like you, you're too good for me. I'm a little thick, and I don't always know what the right thing to say is.” Harry smirked at this, the Yule Ball fiasco immediately coming to mind as Ron continued. “But one thing I know for sure is what I feel for you. I love you, Hermione, and _that_ will never change. It doesn't matter to me whether you're human, or a werewolf, or a bl—or a garden gnome.”

He flushed with embarrassment when the crowd laughed, and Harry distinctly heard Molly say, “oh, _really_.” Though he had a feeling it had to do with his near-curse in his wedding vows more than anything else.

“I know at times when we were younger I wasn't the best friend,” Ron continued, “I did stupid things, and I hurt you when I didn't take the time to think through what I was saying or doing. I like to think I've learnt from those mistakes, and now, and in the future, I swear to you that I will _always_ be there for you, Hermione. I love you more than I can say.”

In the silence that followed, Harry heard the distinct foghorn _honk_ of Hagrid blowing his nose, and he laughed softly when he felt Remus's thumb tickle across his cheek to wipe away a tear. When Harry turned to look at him, he saw that Remus's eyes were just as glassy as his were, and Harry mirrored his mate by reaching up to brush away the stray tear that trickled down his cheek.

“Ronald and Hermione have spoken their vows of love, friendship, and fidelity to one another,” the priestess announced, drawing Harry and Remus's attention back to the ceremony. “If anyone present knows of any reason why these two should not be joined, please speak now.”

“ _Sit down, Fenrir,”_ Adina suddenly growled softly, and Harry turned to see both Tavish and Adina glaring at their mate who had lifted an inch or two from his seat, and the two subs were carrying clear _don't even think about it_ looks upon their faces.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, and turned his attention back to the ceremony.

“May I have the rings?” the priestess asked, and George got up, carrying with him a small violet pillow, upon which sat two golden bands.

Harry half-expected the thing to explode, or turn the priestess into a giant hamster, or _something._ For once however George behaved himself, and the priestess accepted the small pillow from him before he returned to his seat. She offered it to Ron and Hermione, and they each accepted the other's ring.

“Hermione,” the priestess said as Ron held her left hand in his, the ring positioned above her third finger. “Do you wish to tie yourself to Ronald Weasley in love, friendship, and fidelity; in times of peace and sorrow, of richness and poverty, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she replied at once, and her smile widened when Ron slid the ring into place.

“Ronald,” the priestess said as Hermione mirrored him, taking his hand and positioning the ring. “Do you wish to tie yourself to Hermione Granger in love, friendship, and fidelity; in times of peace and sorrow, of richness and poverty, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he answered, his voice ringing with absolute certainty, and Harry saw Hermione's eyes brim with tears again as she slid the ring onto his finger.

“By the power vested in me, on behalf of the Gods, and by the love and support of those assembled, I now pronounce you...bonded for life. You may now kiss.”

The couple needed no further invitation, and Harry watched as Ron and Hermione, both smiling brightly closed the distance between each other. Ron's hands fell to Hermione's hips, Hermione's hands lifted to cradle Ron's cheeks, and as they kissed the entire crowd leapt to their feet, applauding and cheering.

Ron and Hermione turned to the crowd as they folded each other into their arms, both of them smiling bashfully to the attention of their family and friends as they waved at everyone. Both were laughing jovially as they strolled back down the aisle amidst the applause and camera flashes.

When some of the exuberant congratulations had died down, Hermione motioned for everyone to stand and spread out. At the same moment, Ron raised his wand to conjure a dozen or so little round tables, just as the altar table was transformed into a large buffet, overloaded with Molly's excellent cooking.

“Tuck in, everyone!” Ron called to a round of laughter, and as one all of the guests migrated over to the table.

All, save for a small group of nine nervous guests.

“Remus,” Harry said suddenly, grabbing his arm to stop him when he noticed that the other pack members had not moved, and he staggered to a stop as he looked back at them.

As a group, they were all eyeing the humans, their mistrust of them very clear. Silas, Wu-Fei, Ulrich, and Greyback all closed ranks around the other subs instinctively, while Tavish, Adina, Sadie, Leticia, and Jade appeared nervous and uncertain.

Before Harry had come to a decision on what to do, Hermione had bustled over to the group with Ron in tow. She skidded to a halt right in front of Greyback, and though Ron appeared nervous, Hermione seemed to be brimming with just as much excitement as before.

“Alpha,” she said as she addressed him, “my mate. Do you accept him?” she leant in to whisper something in Ron's ear, quietly enough that Harry didn't catch it, but he supposed that she was reminding him to submit to Greyback, given that an instant later Ron tilted his head back, and exposed his throat to the alpha.

Greyback reached forward, and closed his hand around the back of Ron's throat. Ron inhaled sharply but did not move, and Harry watched as the alpha leant forward, and bit down lightly on Ron's throat. Harry recognized the body language as one of pack claim, though seeing it in their human forms was a little strange.

“I accept you,” Greyback said as he pulled back, and Hermione beamed while the werewolves applauded, but it was only then that Harry noticed that the assembled crowd of witches and wizards had paused to watch.

Harry turned and saw mingled looks of unease and alarm in their eyes—as well as a scant few who looked on in genuine disgust. Harry felt his insides turn to ice, and he reached for Remus again as he waited for some cue of what to do from either his mate or their alpha.

Suddenly, a loud, booming clap sounded from the back of the garden. Everyone whirled around towards the source of the noise, and Harry's face split into a wide smile.

Hagrid was applauding them enthusiastically, and slowly, the others followed his lead. Soon, every guest was applauding Greyback's acceptance of Ron. Harry beamed at his old friend as it slowly petered out, and the crowd once more began to move towards the buffet table.

“Trust Hagrid to save the day,” Harry said, and Remus chuckled softly as he took Harry's hand, and offered it a small squeeze.

“He's not the Care of Magical Creatures professor for nothing,” Remus replied mildly, “he'd understand better than any wizard the importance of Alpha accepting Ron like that.”

“I hate to imagine what might've happened if he _wasn't_ here,” Harry muttered, and watched as Greyback grabbed a plate, followed by his mates, and they loaded up with food—mostly meat—followed by Ulrich, before at last Harry and the others began to serve themselves, with Silas serving himself last. He could feel the eyes of the other guests on him and their little group, but he did his best to ignore it.

“Likely either you, myself, or one of the newlyweds would have broken it up somehow, but I believe Hagrid's approach was probably best, to avoid making a scene...” Remus trailed off as his eyes flitted over to the table where Ron and Hermione, as well as Molly and Arthur were seated, and they could clearly see Molly fussing over Ron's throat where Greyback had bitten him. His best mate appeared deeply embarrassed by the attention, while there was a distinct look of hurt in Hermione's eyes.

“There's still time,” Harry muttered as he watched them, and quickly piled some food onto his plate before he and Remus moved to join the other werewolves at one of the tables a little farther from the main hustle and bustle of the festivities.

It was a tight squeeze with eleven of them at the table, and Harry took it upon himself to get everyone to stand back up so that he could enlarge it before they all sat down again, this time a little more comfortably.

Just like in the territory, everyone waited for Greyback to start eating before they tucked in themselves, and for the first few minutes, they ate in a tense, uncomfortable silence.

“Not bad, for wizard food,” Tavish said suddenly, then crammed another forkful of beef into his mouth. “A little _too_ well done if you ask me, though.”

“I think I like our food back in the territory more,” chirped Sadie, “makes me glad I chose to leave when I was turned.”

“Yes, that's exactly why we all chose pack life,” said Wu-Fei dryly, “for the food.”

Laughter rang out around the table, and slowly, they relaxed into familiar conversation. Harry didn't talk much, more content to listen and watch as the tension began to dissolve, and Tavish filled the silence with amicable chatter, with Sadie throwing in a word here and there when it got too quiet. Most of the dominants did not contribute, and seemed more interested in keeping an eye on the wizards rather than engage in conversation.

 

Pudding followed the dinner, and Remus got himself and Harry a piece of the wedding cake to share, which was actually not a cake at all, but an elaborately constructed pyramid of cream puffs and warm sugar syrup that Remus called a _Croquembouche._ Aside from Harry, no one appeared wholly interested in this fact, or how to properly pronounce it.

As the interest in the food slowly died out, once more Ron took his wand, and the guests seated in the centre of the festivities stood up, enabling him to banish the tables to the edges of the property.

“Everyone, gather round!” Hermione called out to the crowd, “this is a muggle tradition that I _insist_ you all take part in! It's called the Throwing of the Bouquet, and if you catch it, it's believed that you're next to be married! Come on, come on, squeeze in! _You too, Alpha!_ ”

The pack howled with laughter when Greyback went very red, and as a group they all stood and followed Hermione's instructions, stopping at the back of the assembled crowd. They'd arrived just in time for them to hear Molly say, “Arthur, for heaven's sake, _you're already married,_ ” to which Remus and Harry snorted loudly, while the other pack members eyed them with confusion at their reaction.

Hermione was standing on some kind of stepping stool, and Ron shuffled in next to her upon it as they turned their backs to the crowd, and together they held the bouquet as Hermione began to call out, “one...two... _three!_ ”

Together the couple threw the bouquet, and it sailed high over the cheering and jostling crowd, until it bumped squarely against Ulrich's chest, and he caught it on reflex.

The witches in the crowd let out a collective groan while the pack applauded him, and he lifted up the bouquet in acknowledgement, his face a little red with embarrassment.

The werewolves migrated back to their little corner fairly quickly, while at the same time a quartet of violinists set up close to the empty area that would serve as the dance floor. Harry and Remus angled their chairs to watch as Ron and Hermione took to the dance floor alone for their first dance as husband and wife. Harry reached for Remus, and Remus mirrored him, their fingers threading together as the others turned in time to see Ron take Hermione's hands, and he pulled her close.

The violinists struck up a slow, sweet melody, and slowly newlyweds began to rove around the dance floor. Ron moved much more gracefully than Harry would have expected, lending to the possibility that he'd taken lessons prior to the big day. Only Hermione's baby bump separated them, and Harry smiled more broadly as Ron laughed at something that Hermione had said, and he removed one of his hands from hers to touch her stomach briefly.

 

Harry could not recall any time in recent history where the pair of them looked so happy, and after everything they'd been through, they _deserved_ this happiness.

Slowly, other couples began to join them, and Remus immediately turned more fully to Harry.

“Harry, may I have this dance?” he asked with a small, familiar smile upon his face. For once, Harry had absolutely no objection whatsoever to dancing, and with a broad smile of his own, he got up arm in arm with his mate, and headed for the dance floor.

Harry tried to remember what he knew of dancing from the disaster of the Yule Ball, as well as Bill and Fleur's wedding while they made it to the floor. Thankfully, like back then, he was not the one leading, for which he was _very_ grateful.

Like with cooking and teaching, Remus danced excellently.

He twirled Harry around the dance floor effortlessly. Every small flub of Harry's, when he would trip over himself or accidentally trod on his mate's foot was met with gentle laughter before they went right back to it, as though nothing had interrupted their moment together.

They paused their dancing to to meander over to the buffet table, still leaden with the remnants of the wedding cake-pastry-thing, along with at least two dozen flutes of champagne, charmed to stay chilled.

Harry and Remus each selected a glass, clinked them together, and sipped the drink, standing arm-in-arm as they watched the others. Tavish had dragged Sadie to the dance floor, and Alpha was moving somewhat stiffly with Adina, who looked exasperated at his attitude, but mildly amused at the same time. Most of the other werewolves had not moved from their table in the corner, and were more or less talking amongst themselves, with the dominants taking turns keeping an eye out.

“Harry, look,” Remus whispered suddenly as he nudged him with his elbow.

“What?” Harry hissed back, arching a brow at his mate, and Remus nodded across the dance floor in the direction of the werewolves' table.

“ _Look,_ ” he repeated, and then Harry saw it. Charlie was edging a little nervously over to the werewolves, his uncharacteristic shyness certainly not unwarranted as both Silas and Wu-Fei took on defensive postures, shielding Leticia and Jade from view. Charlie kept moving, clearly undeterred by their posturing, and stopped directly in front of Ulrich.

Harry watched the ginger motion awkwardly towards the bouquet as he spoke, which had been left haphazardly in the centre of the table, and then to the dance floor. His eyes were wide and hopeful, while Ulrich's expression registered as politely perplexed. The beta's eyes swivelled away from the Weasley, and quickly he found Harry.

“ _Go on,_ ” Harry mouthed with an encouraging nod, and he grinned when he saw Ulrich nod stiffly and stand up.

“Looks like there might be some truth to that muggle myth after all,” Remus observed, and Harry laughed.

“More Werewolf Weasleys on the way,” Harry replied, “Ron's Auntie Muriel will be _thrilled_.”

“Ah, so is that why that delightful woman was absent today, or at one hundred and thirteen she's simply too old to enjoy a wedding?”

“Something like that,” Ron said suddenly, and Harry turned to see the newlyweds approaching them. “She had a hard enough time with Fleur 'cause she was _French_. She almost had a heart attack when I informed her that I was marrying a werewolf. I'm pretty sure Ginny's the only one who she hasn't written out of the will yet, since she married into a _respectable_ family.”

“So former Death Eater and current annoying prat is better than _werewolf_?” Harry asked with an arched brow, and Ron snorted as Hermione swatted her husband's arm to shush him.

“I heard that, Potty!” Malfoy called from the dance floor, and the three friends laughed as Ginny rolled her eyes and tugged him away.

“Anyway,” Harry said as he turned his attention back to his friends. “Congrats, seriously. Great party. All the right amounts of fun, drama, and tears.”

“It was a bit touch-and-go for a moment there,” Ron added, “Mum about lost her mind when Hermione presented me as her mate, did you see that?”

“We were hoping if we distracted the other guests with food, there'd be less of a... _reaction,”_ Hermione added, and winced. Harry did not miss how Ron squeezed Hermione's hand reassuringly at the same moment.

“We saw,” Harry confirmed, “I guess she still has a little way to go before she's _completely_ accepting, yeah?”

“We'll get her there,” Hermione replied with a nod as she rested her free hand on her stomach. “With her grandpup, I'm sure she'll lose most of her prejudices.”

Harry and Remus laughed at her wording while Ron rolled his eyes, as though he'd heard the term easily a hundred times before.

“All right, come on, Mrs Weasley,” Ron said as the laughter died down, and he tugged on Hermione's hand. “Enough boring chitchat, I want to dance with my wife!”

Hermione's face split into a wide smile, and she fingered a wave at Harry two seconds before she was dragged away by Ron and back onto the dance floor.

“What do you think?” Remus asked as he set down his empty champagne flute. “Fancy another spin?”

 

~*~

 

The afternoon gave way to evening, and the lanterns that hung off the edge of the house and along the edges of the property were illuminated, casting the garden in a warm, festive glow. Harry and Remus danced, mingled with their friends, both pack and wizards alike, and after a few hours, they snuck off to the orchard, both of them giggling like a pair of schoolboys as they went.

“Last time we were in here, I don't think it ended too well,” Harry joked as they wove through the trees, and Remus wrapped an arm around Harry's waist to draw him close.

“Yes, it was a bit less fun last time, but I'm pretty sure there's no more evil dark wizards out for your head,” Remus pointed out, and Harry snorted.

“Don't bet on it,” Harry teased as he leant back against one of the nearby trunks, allowing Remus to pin him there while he reached up to drape his arms over his mate's shoulders. “It seems as though some mad wizard or evil alpha is always out to put an end to me.”

“Well...I promise a much better ending this time around,” Remus replied teasingly as he pulled Harry in for a kiss.

Harry happily returned it, his hands moving up Remus's neck as he buried his fingers in his dominant's hair. He shivered with delight as Remus deepened the kiss, coaxing his lips apart as he darted his tongue out to taste him.

“Only good endings from now on,” Harry breathed against the older man's lips, and Remus smiled down at him warmly. He brought a hand to the sub's cheek, and stroked it lightly with his thumb, the look of pure, unabashed love never leaving his eyes.

“That's a promise, Harry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: S/O to GeekMom13, MagicalWinry, and Pendek for calling Charlie/Ulrich! ^.^ I was super excited when I saw those guesses.
> 
> Auntie Muriel was 107 in DH, so I loosely based her age around Harry's birthday to make it easier on my Bad At Math Brain.


	39. Epilogue: Godfathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning: Towards the end of this chapter, there is a sequence of violence and gore. (I know you lot won't believe me, but seriously, DON'T PANIC BY THIS WARNING)

Epilogue – Godfathers

 

**Seven Years Later**

 

Harry rotated his shoulders as he appeared just outside the modest two-storey house in an effort to shake off the last dregs of his Apparition journey. He hadn't yet moved even a single step towards the open gate when the front door burst open with the force of a charging bull, and out tore a little girl with a long red braid bouncing off her behind. She ran down the walkway, through the gate, and leapt at Harry in a fierce hug, which very nearly knocked him to the ground.

“Uncle Harry, Uncle Harry!” she squealed excitedly as she linked her arms around his waist. “You're here! I'm ready, let's go!”

“Whoa, whoa, Rosie,” Harry said with a laugh as he scooped her up and carried the little girl back towards the house. “I wanna say hello to your mum and dad before we go.”

As Harry stepped through the gate and carried the excited seven-year-old back inside the house, Hermione came bustling out of the door, her hands on her hips and doing a remarkable impression of her mother-in-law.

“ _Rose Weasley!_ What have I told you about running out of the house like that?” she demanded, and Rose winced at her mother's cutting tone.

“B-But Uncle Harry was just outside!” she protested, her bottom lip quivering slightly, but Hermione was not fooled by the wounded puppy look.

“That is no excuse! You do _not_ go running out. You are a werewolf, not a golden retriever. Understand?”

“Yes, Mum,” Rose mumbled as she bowed her head sadly.

“Good, now go and get your bag, your uncle and I need to have a quick chat before you go.”

Harry set Rose down and she thundered up the stairs, while he just barely managed to hold in a laugh at her excitement.

“You ready for tonight?” Harry asked when he was certain the little girl was out of earshot, “big night for you and Ron.”

“Biggest,” Hermione answered, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “I've no idea if I'm ready, but Ron asked me to, and I trust Alpha to help keep things from getting out of hand. Anyway, come on, I'm sure you want to see Ron before my daughter drags you off." She motioned towards the kitchen with a faint smile on her face, and Harry followed her obediently. He found Ron seated at the breakfast nook, a cup of tea cradled in his hands, and a very familiar-looking set of puncture-like markings decorating his throat.

“Hey, mate,” Harry said as he plopped down next to him, and Ron smiled weakly.

“Hey,” he croaked as he forced a small, weak smile.

“You ready for tonight?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” he replied, red creeping up his neck and to his ears as he spoke. “I know I want it, but I'm...scared.” Ron winced as though he uttered some sort of horrid swear word, and behind the ginger, Harry could see Hermione smiling at him sympathetically. “What if something happens? What if it doesn't work?”

“Ron, we've told you,” Harry said patiently, “when it happens, you'll be like me...a sub. Hermione's pretty much already claimed you, so you don't need to worry about hierarchy, or pushy doms who want to make you their...cuddle monkey, or something. And being a sub isn't emasculating. You'll have me, and Tavish, and Daanish, and all of us are still the same. You know? And since you'll be a sub, that means after Hermione bites you, she'll need to watch over you to make sure you don't die. It's not exactly the most _fun_ thing in the world, but you'll survive it. Hermione'd never let you die from something as mundane as a vicious, bloody werewolf attack.”

“Somehow that's not exactly making me feel any better,” Ron mumbled as he stared down into his half-empty cup, “I mean, we did the marking thing last month, I resigned from the Aurors, and we have all these plans to move over to the territory if everything goes well, but...I have _no_ idea what I'll even do when I get there.”

“That isn't something you'll need to worry about, since it'll be Alpha who assigns you someplace,” Harry offered with a small shrug, but Ron didn't appear cheered by his words.

“Uncle Harry!” a little voice suddenly chirped, “I'm ready, can we _go?_ I wanna see Uncle Remus, I writed another book for him!”

“Yeah, Rose, we're nearly done,” Harry called to her, and she let out a loud, frustrated groan.

“Go on,” Hermione said with a nod towards the door, “before she explodes. We'll see you at sunset.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He offered Ron's shoulder a quick squeeze, hugged Hermione, then finally headed over to the door.

“All ready?” Harry asked Rose, who was hopping from foot to foot in her excitement, a violently pink rucksack perched on her back and a plush lamb in her arms.

“I was ready _ten years ago_ , let's go! It's the moon! I wanna see my friends, and Uncle Remus!” she said this all very fast, and grabbed Harry's hand, then began to drag him towards the door.

Harry offered his friends a quick wave, then finally allowed the little girl to drag him outside.

Just past the property line, Harry stopped and withdrew a cracked seashell from his pocket and held it out to her.

“Portkey?” he asked, and with a bright smile, she eagerly grabbed hold of it.

One dizzying trip later, Harry and Rose arrived at the Apparition Point in a jumbled heap, and Rose was up and darting off before he'd even begun to sit up.

“Auntie Jade, Auntie Jade!” Harry heard Rose call excitedly, “where is Xue and Calliope?”

“Hello to you too, Rose,” the older woman said with a small laugh, “they're with their brothers at home, how about you go say hello to your Uncle Remus and drop off your bag, then you can go see them?”

“Okay!”

By the time Harry had gotten up, Rose had already darted off for his and Remus's cabin. Harry nodded towards Jade in thanks, and she offered him a warm smile as he turned and headed for the cabins, smiling to himself as he went.

 

So much had happened in such a short span of time, and still Harry could hardly believe how wonderfully, _beautifully_ normal his life had become.

As normal as life gets for a werewolf, at least.

From the frenzied owl from Ron now just over seven years past, informing them that Hermione had gone into labour, to bursting into their flat, scaring the midwife half to death, and the wonderful look of pleasant shock that had registered upon Remus's face when Hermione had asked _both_ Harry and Remus to be godfather to her daughter.

It got even better when Charlie and Ulrich's tentative relationship began to blossom, and where Harry had found Ulrich's over-the-top defensive behaviour on the side of maddening, Charlie seemed to revel in it. He sported a prideful smile every time that it happened, he and was always quick to drag his werewolf off for some alone time not long after. They were still in a limbo of trying to decide when and if they should take the next step—either by way of a human/werewolf bond or by turning Charlie, but it seemed as though they'd yet to come to a decision. Harry was thrilled for them both, especially after what he and Ulrich had gone through some years before.

And now it was to be Ron's turn for a major change in his life.

It was a far cry from what Harry's turning had been like, and Ron's was to be _how it should be_ , according to Tavish, Greyback, Adina, and practically every other person in the pack. Ron would come to the territory at sundown, duly protected from harm by the claim marks at his throat and Hermione's scent on him, and the pack would witness her turning him. It would be difficult to watch, Harry was certain, but at the same time, Harry felt that it was _right_ , like his family would finally be complete again.

When Harry arrived at their cabin door, he could hear the high, excited voice of his goddaughter babbling away happily on the other side. It successfully drew him from his fog of pleasant memory, and with an indulgent smile, he opened the door.

“...and this is the part where the Princess Wolfington the Brave beats up the bad, evil wizard, so that everyone can go to school for real, and not just pretend,” Rose said as Harry stepped inside. He spotted Rose and Remus by the fire pit, two empty mugs on the bench beside them, and the little girl was perched in her godfather's lap while she showed him her latest storybook that she'd drawn for him.

“The bad wizard wasn't letting the werewolves go to school?” Remus asked her, and Harry saw Rose shake her head.

“Nope. Mister Toffee and Missus Toad was scared of us, so he said that we weren't allowed to go to real school, because then we'd get smart and learn how to make him go away. Mummy gave me the idea.”

Remus chuckled, and Harry smiled, having an inkling as to where Hermione had gotten that particular idea. As the door snapped shut behind him, both Remus and Rose whirled around to face him. Rose was bearing a wide, excited smile, while Remus's was more reserved, and bore a warm adoration that never failed to make the colour rise in Harry's cheeks.

“What took you so long, Uncle Harry?” Rose asked, her eyes wide and curious, “I was showing Uncle Remus my new book, but you can look too. Princess Wolfington and Loopy want to go to school, but a bad wizard won't let them.”

“A bad wizard, eh?” Harry asked as he approached them and sat down next to Remus, pausing just long enough to offer his mate a light kiss. “Why doesn't he want Princess Wolfington to go to school?”

“Because he thinks werewolfs are bad, so he thinks letting her learn stuff is bad too,” she explained proudly, and Harry bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.

_She is so much like her mother, it's amazing. Always wanting to learn._

Rose read out the rest of the picture book to Harry and Remus, and they followed along with her story of Princess Wolfington the Brave, and how she brought down the corrupt government in order to allow her and her werewolf friends to go to school.

“...and then Princess Wolfington went to Hogwarts, and she was picked to go in Gryffinclaw, 'cause she was smart _and_ brave, and she lived happily ever after. The end.”

“What a great story, Rose,” Remus said as he squeezed her shoulder, and she beamed at him. “Why don't you leave it with your other storybooks while you go and see your friends? You haven't seen them yet, you came straight here.”

“I saw Auntie Jade, she told me to leave my stuff here first...”

“That you did, but—” Remus began, but a sudden hammering on their cabin door successfully interrupted them.

“ _Rooose, are you done yet? Mum said you went to put away your stuff, and you're taking forever...”_ a juvenile voice sounded from the opposite side of the door, one which Harry recognized immediately as belonging to Rose's best friend, Xue.

“Coming!” Rose called, and jumped up off the bench, her storybook forgotten as she ran out the door without so much as a _goodbye_.

“She really doesn't lack for energy,” Harry observed while Remus stood and tucked away Rose's latest storybook on their shelf along with all the other stories of _Princess Wolfington_ she'd written over the last six months.

“You're not wrong,” Remus replied with a soft chuckle, “it's amazing Ron and Hermione aren't run ragged by her.”

“I suppose having werewolf stamina certainly helps,” Harry joked as he stood up and meandered over to Remus, getting on his toes to offer him a more proper kiss that was not intended for the eyes of his goddaughter. Remus let out a tiny sigh of contentment, and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, drawing him a little closer.

“I don't think I'll _ever_ get tired of kissing you,” Remus purred against his mouth, and Harry's face split into a grin.

“Me neither,” Harry replied, his hands dropping to Remus's waist, and they kissed again. Though it was still early, Harry could practically feel the hum of the impending moon on his skin, and it seemed to make his arousal amplify as he leant in to kiss Remus again.

“Don't do this to me, Harry,” Remus murmured with a soft groan between kisses, “we're supposed to be keeping an eye on Rose until Ron and Hermione get here...”

“Jade can watch her,” Harry said softly as he extended his tongue to trace the shape of Remus's lips before he leant in for another kiss, “come on, you know neither of us will last long at this time of the month, and I still have Hermione's scent _all over me_ , a dominant who isn't you...”

That seemed to do the trick, and with a soft, possessive growl, Remus dragged his sub towards their bed.

 

~*~

 

An hour later, Harry and Remus wandered out of the cabin hand-in-hand, both sporting smiles that bordered on goofy.

When they reached the main area of the territory, it took about three seconds for Rose and the other kids to notice them, and Remus was abruptly dragged off for story time. Or, in layman's terms, censored versions of the Marauders' misadventures that Remus had adapted for the ears of the pack's pups.

Harry chuckled as he watched the kids drag him off, and turned away in time to see Tavish sauntering towards him, a lewd smirk on his face.

“You stink like sex,” Tavish said, and Harry shoved his shoulder lightly.

“So do you, so your accusation is a bit pot calling kettle black, don't you think?” Harry asked, and Tavish grinned, adjusting the collar of his jumper to make the purple marks on his throat more visible.

“Gods, I love the day of the Moon,” he said as he stretched his arms over his head luxuriously. “So much fun to be had. You excited about tonight?”

“I'm not sure _excited_ is the right word,” Harry replied as he and Tavish wandered over to the bonfire and took seats on one of the benches not far from where Remus was regaling the young ones with their favourite tale— _Cat, Rat, and Dog._ “Ron's really nervous. I know he wants it, but...a sub's turning isn't exactly the most fun thing in the world.”

“So I've heard,” Tavish muttered with a small grimace, and Harry blinked.

“You don't remember your turning?” he asked, and this time Tavish blinked at him in equal confusion.

“I'm a born wolf,” Tavish explained, “I thought you knew. My father was _not_ happy that he'd produced a sub, so I had to leave my pack, and I came here.”

“I must've missed the memo,” Harry replied, his tone very dry, and Tavish cracked a small smile. He could see that there was a story there, but something about his friend's tone told Harry that it wasn't something he was willing to discuss, and quickly dropped it. “Anyway, I nearly died from mine. I think that's sort of traumatized Ron, so he's really nervous.”

“That's sort of the point, though,” Tavish said as he stared into the high, crackling bonfire. “Born of blood to protect in blood...or born in blood, to protect blood...I can't remember. It all boils down to all the old tales that glorify subs as these great caregiver types.”

“Like how women are supposed to be good at cooking and having babies and things, and men must do manly things like accountancy or fishing...” Harry muttered, and snorted at Tavish's perplexed look. “Muggle stereotypes of men and women.”

“I'm suddenly very glad for my all-wolf upbringing,” Tavish joked, and Harry laughed.

 

They whiled away the afternoon by alternating between chatting together, keeping the pups occupied, and sneaking off with their respective mates. Harry and Remus only made it back to their cabin half of the time, and it was only after they were caught snogging in the woods on the edge of the territory for the third time did Greyback gruffly remind them that they had a cabin for a _reason_. Neither Remus nor Harry were overly embarrassed about being caught; after seven years, their track record was in the low hundreds, and at least two thirds of the pack could attest to having caught them at it a handful of times each.

As evening began to set in, Remus returned from the kitchen tent with a massive serving of food for Harry, and he stared at it bemusedly.

“Because of the turning tonight, there will be no hunt, so everyone needs to eat a little more than usual,” Remus explained, and Harry looked around to see the other subs tucking into huge portions of their own, and even the pups had close to adult-sized portions of food before them.

“Right,” Harry said as he accepted the bowl and Remus sat next to him with his usual pre-moon serving, that looked like it could feed five Remuses, not just one.

The pair tucked in, and Harry tried to pace himself in order to clean his plate, but after half of his portion his stomach began to protest, and he pushed his leftovers away with a small groan. Remus frowned at him, but Harry shook his head.

“I know I'll regret it tonight, but if I eat anymore, I might explode,” he explained, and Remus nodded a little, vanishing the lot with a lazy flick of his wand.

“When you wake up tomorrow to your stomach eating itself, don't blame me,” Remus said mildly, and Harry snorted.

“It takes more than twelve hours for that to happen, you prat. Besides, I think it's more likely for that to happen to _you,_ not me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You big, strong dominants, for all your strength, you're _always_ hungry,” Harry pointed out with an arched brow, and Remus chuckled.

“Point,” he murmured as he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, tugging him a little closer, and leant in to nip at the sub's earlobe, making him shiver. “We'll just have to eat each other, then.”

The husky tone with which Remus spoke suggested that he was trying for a clever double entendre, but the phrasing caused Harry to bark a laugh.

“I had no idea cannibalism turned you on,” Harry teased, and Remus flushed a faint pink.

“You know what I meant,” Remus said, his tone shifting back to normal, and Harry smirked.

“Definitely.”

Remus leant in at the same moment that Harry did, and their lips pressed together lightly, just as a pointed cough sounded from the left of them. They broke apart and turned to see Greyback standing nearby, his arms crossed.

“Do we need to have another talk about you two keeping your filthy shagging sessions to your cabin?”

“You're one to talk—” Harry began, and Remus elbowed him sharply to shut him up.

“Watch your mouth, Potter,” Greyback growled with annoyance. “I mean it, none of us _enjoy_ catching you two voyeurs in action, regardless of what my paramour might say.”

“ _It's a beautiful expression of love!_ ” Tavish cried out from across the circle, and Harry tasted blood from biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep himself from laughing. Remus seemed to be faring no better, and Greyback shot them each one more withering glare before he stomped off.

“I got the impression that Alpha was trying to tell us something...” Harry said airily, “maybe about not shagging in public anymore?”

“It's difficult to tell,” Remus replied in the same teasing tone as he chuckled, “he wasn't very clear. One might interpret his words as we just need to get more creative about where we shag in public...”

“I think I have a few ideas...”

“I don't doubt that, but maybe keep it for _after_ the moon, I think we're out of time at the moment,” Remus said, and nodded to the west. The sky was a deep orange shot with hues of pink and gold, making it clear that moonrise was not too far off.

“Too bad,” Harry replied with false disappointment as he leant into his mate's side. Remus secured his arm around him, and they watched the sunset in peaceful silence while the other pack members around them slowly finished off their meals.

 

It was nearly moonrise by the time Ron and Hermione showed up. No one noticed them straightaway, and it was only Rose's excited shriek of, “ _Mummy! Daddy!_ ” that alerted the rest of the pack to their presence, and Harry turned just in time to see Hermione scoop Rose up and swing her around happily.

Harry gave Remus's hand a quick squeeze before he broke away from his mate to go and see his friends. Ron's complexion was even paler than it had been earlier, and it seemed to have taken on a greenish tinge, which his daughter did not notice as she babbled away at them about her day.

“Well, it's good that you're not really, really nervous about tonight, or this would be _really_ difficult for you,” Harry remarked, and Ron snorted as he offered his best mate a weak smile.

“Will it hurt?” Ron asked with a wince, and Harry grimaced.

“You probably don't want me to answer that,” he replied delicately, and Ron's complexion seemed to get even greener.

“Brilliant,” he rasped, and glanced over to the pack. “Is this what it felt like when you were waiting to be turned?”

“More or less,” Harry replied, “I guess my hissy fit no longer seems like an overreaction, does it?”

“Not so much, no,” Ron replied, his tone a little dry as he smiled weakly at Harry.

“Don't worry, it'll be fine. Hermione will take good care of you.”

“Aren't I supposed to be the one taking care of _her,_ though?”

“Whole new world, mate,” Harry replied simply, “just 'cause she's a dom and you're not doesn't make you any less of a man, trust me. Daanish is one of the most respected werewolves in the pack, and he's a sub. It's _nothing_.”

Ron answered with a noncommittal grunt, but Harry decided not to push it; Ron would work it out in his own time.

 

Harry broke away from Ron to go to Remus, while Hermione took Ron's hands and led him to the centre of the territory. It was a little odd to see, especially when he realized with a jolt that this was what his own turning would have looked like, had he gone with Greyback the morning after he'd been marked.

Adina, as usual, sifted through the pack, accepting their clothes as they disrobed, and noted Ron's look of horror—it appeared as though Hermione had forgotten to mention that he'd be surrounded by naked werewolves before the change actually came upon them.

Harry watched Hermione draw Ron's attention back to her; he could see her lips moving, but from such a distance, he could not discern the words.

“Rings,” Remus said suddenly.

“What? Oh, right,” Harry replied as he turned to his mate, remembering belatedly what he was referring to. He pulled the ring off his finger and threaded it through a long chain that he had around his neck, usually concealed beneath his clothes. In their human forms they seemed to be overly long, but after the transformation it fit against Harry's throats comfortably, very much like a narrow dog collar.

“How's Ron?” Remus asked conversationally as he finished threading his own ring onto the chain, and looped it back over his head. “Is he ready for this?”

“He is; I think he's more scared of the pain than anything else,” Harry replied, his eyes not on Remus, but on the darkening sky. “Being turned is never easy, but considering he'll be a sub...” Harry trailed off, and he saw Remus nod out of the corner of his eye. He didn't need to say it—the older man knew what he meant.

A warm hand slipped into Harry's, and at the same moment he felt his skin begin to prickle with cold sweat.

“It's coming,” Harry whispered, and Remus could only nod as he began to breathe harshly. Around him, the other pack members were equally affected by the moon's appearance in the sky as low moans and cries filled the air. Harry's notice of them fell to the background as the change took him, and he slid to his knees as he welcomed his wolf.

The painful crunch of bone, the stretching of his skin, and the distinct burn of wolf fur sprouting from every follicle overwhelmed Harry as it always did, and after a moment, it all stopped.

Harry stood on all fours and shook himself, and he could feel his mate doing the same next to him. He turned, his tail beginning to wag, but he froze as an unfamiliar scent met his nose. He turned, and spotted the human.

The human was afraid—blindingly so. Harry could taste it on the air, but paired with it was the strange sense that he was almost _pack_. He saw Hermione sitting near him, nuzzling his cheek, her tail wagging, while a russet pup ran in circles around them, yipping excitedly.

Alpha was not with his mates, or the dominants, but instead he was shepherding every pack member into position to observe the human. Many of the subs appeared unnerved by the human's presence, and with teeth bared, they made numerous mad dashed towards him. The human screamed; Harry didn't like the sound, and his ears flattened against his head. Each time however, Alpha, Hermione, or one of the other dominants intercepted them, protecting the human from harm.

Harry whined as Alpha reached him and his mate, separating them as he shunted Harry towards the semicircle of subs. All of them were sitting still and watching the human, while Alpha's mates bracketed them, breaking formation only when it appeared as though one of the subs might run forward and attack.

Alpha then rounded up the dominants, placing them behind the subs in the same semicircle pattern. The mated subs were gifted with their dominants at their back, and Harry felt himself relax when he scented Moony not a foot from him, and wagged his tail lightly.

Their alpha at last moved to the front of the formation, sitting roughly two feet in front of the subs, directly in the middle while he faced Hermione and the human. He let out a short bark, and Hermione stood up on all fours, giving herself a quick shake before she rounded on the human.

Harry fidgeted; it smelt like a hunt, and he was overwhelmed for a moment with the urge to _lunge_ at the human. A warning nip to his hindquarters from Moony stopped him short, and with a frustrated whine, he forced himself to sit still.

The human was speaking, but it was gibberish—Harry couldn't understand a word of it. He sounded frightened, but Harry had no idea _why_. With his pack all around him, he never felt safer. This human smelt like pack, so why did he not trust them? Harry was once again overwhelmed with the urge to lunge forward, this time to teach the human a lesson, but at the risk of being reprimanded by his mate again, he forced himself to stay where he was.

Hermione growled as she bowed forward in a traditional pouncing stance. The human stumbled over his large feet as he scampered back, and Alpha circled away from his pack towards the human, caging him in and preventing him from fleeing, but not interfering with the ceremony, either.

Hermione stayed still for a moment longer, her gaze calculating, then without warning, she lunged.

The human screamed again as the scent of blood filled the air, paired with the tearing of flesh, and the audible snapping of bone. Harry pawed the ground as the fresh smell made his stomach rumble, but a warning growl from Moony was more than enough to keep him in position.

Hermione had ripped the human open, and blood dripped thickly from her jaws. The human was weeping openly, his hands at his belly, and it seemed as though Hermione had very nearly bitten him clean in half. His white hands were red, and Harry could see the shine of the stars and moon glint off his internal organs, some of which were in danger of tumbling out. She growled, and lunged at him again, but this time Alpha interfered and snapped at her sharply. Her ears flattened against her head as she seemed to come back to herself, and began to whine as she circled her alpha and made for the human.

He did not seem to be completely conscious anymore, laying on his back, his hands resting at his stomach, which was still bleeding heavily, but his grip seemed to have lessened somewhat. Hermione licked away his tears, and whined again when he let out another pained groan. He said something, his tone plaintive, and Hermione moved to lick his bloody hands, her attention focused on keeping the grievous wound from becoming fatal.

Her saliva worked into the wound, and Harry watched the human's skin knit back together very slowly, pink and raw, though the human seemed to have fainted, and did not see his mate tending to him.

When the wound was completely sealed and the fresh blood smell began to wane, the human's scent changed very suddenly, almost like an explosion of pheromones on the air. Now, Harry could smell only one thing— _werewolf._

Hermione lay down next to her mate, her large brown head resting on the centre of his chest. Her pup broke ranks and joined them, the little ball of red fur curling up tightly between her parents.

Alpha tilted his head back and howled, welcoming the new werewolf to their ranks.

The dominants followed suit, engulfing the subs in the sound, and at last Harry tilted his head back as he joined them, singing welcome to the newest member of their pack—their _family._

As the circle slowly began to break up, the unmated subs stayed close, protecting the new wolf from further harm, while the others went to their mates. Harry was the only pair-bond sub to stay behind as he watched the little werewolf family, his head cocked. Moony sidled up to him and Harry pressed against his side, while at the same time he inched a little closer to the trio.

Hermione curled her lip back in warning, and moved to block her mate and pup from sight. Harry backed off with a soft whimper, while Moony rested his head atop Harry's consolingly.

Harry backed off a little, but he was still reluctant to go too far. He lay down, his ears pricked and tail high as he watched the new werewolf, unconscious for the moment, his mate, nuzzling him almost continually, and the tiny pup, little more than a fluffy red ball, squirming and fidgeting between her parents.

Moony lay down at Harry's side with a soft huff, his much larger wolf form curling around him protectively. He licked at Harry's ears and nuzzled him gently, while Harry laid his head down upon his crossed forepaws, and watched over Hermione, her mate, and her pup attentively.

Harry's intent to keep them safe—regardless that his muddled sub instincts was telling him that he needn't do so—kept him awake much longer than usual. The sky was a deep indigo by the time he shut his eyes and curled into the warmth of his mate's thick fur, and he found peaceful sleep that night, his dreams devoid of dark lords, of terrorist groups, and of rogue werewolves.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't even know what to say here, but it feels like I should say _something_. Just over eighteen months have passed since I sat down to outline this story, and I can't even begin to express my sheer amazement at the reception this thing has gotten. I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every single reader who took the time to read this, share this, kudo, bookmark, and especially, comment on this. This isn't one of the most popular ships out there, and so to receive such a volume of support for a rarer pairing is doubly exciting, and I am just so very humbled by the popularity of this story. 
> 
> When I first started this, it was out of frustration at not being able to find the kind of fic that I personally wanted to read for this ship, and it quickly evolved into its own separate thing, and to not work on it anymore is a little bit strange for me, like letting my child go off to their first day of kindergarten or something. 
> 
> This has been a truly amazing ride, and thank you again for sticking with this story, I am so deeply humbled by all of you for your support for this story, from those who have been there since the beginning, to more recent readers, to those lurkers who are too shy to leave a comment. Thank you guys so, so, so, so, so, so much!
> 
> I'm always working on too many things at once, so I'll be back soon with another chaptered HP fic before long. In the meantime, I have a tumblr just for my writing stuff under the same username(JBankai89), and if you wish to bug me with questions, or follow, or whatever, you can meander over there to do it if you'd rather not post publicly like with a comment. Again, thank you guys from the very bottom of my heart for your neverending support, you guys are the absolute best, and I would not still be writing if it weren't for you <3 
> 
> xox  
> James
> 
> PS. This is the end, but I do have two companion pieces in the works, though I have no idea when they will be out—Mourning Moon, which is the story of how Tavish and Fenrir got together, and Moonlight, which an Ulrich/Charlie sequelogue. Both will probably be a few chapters long, but nothing as huge as this. I'm marking this series as complete because Remus and Harry's story is finished, but keep an eye out for those two side-pieces if you think it's something you would be interested in reading, as they will be attached to the Lunaticus series! :)


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